


Fiat Justitia

by Fluidfyre



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood Magic, Bondage, Breast Sex, Breathplay, Complete, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Mind Control, Multi, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Other, Painplay, Porn With Plot, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Slavery, Strap-Ons, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluidfyre/pseuds/Fluidfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Hawke's family left Fereldan some years before the Blight, and never went to Kirkwall. Where Danarius never abandoned Fenris in Seheron. Where Anders is a free mage gaining rank in Minrathous, fuelled by the spirit in him to liberate a different oppressed people. DA2 AU in Tevinter featuring a wide variety of pairings & kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breaking in the Backdoor

There was a crash in the servant's kitchen and Anders looked up from his writing, willing the lamp brighter. The fires had dimmed hours ago and the servants were in their rooms - there was little cause for noise. His study was close to theirs, as the main wing was being repaired, making him all the more aware of their goings on. Summoning a magelight, he silently proceeded down the hall, waving a dismissive hand to the elf that appeared in the door of their quarters, "I will handle it."

"Yes, master," the young man replied, his eyes downcast.

"You needn't call me that," Anders said, hesitating. "You are your own man now."

"Yes... sir," the elf bowed his head, before turning back into the rooms.

In a moment, Anders stepped into the kitchen, and seeing movement by the fire, hissed a quick command. Darkened miasma obscured his hand, and there was an arrested breath as the intruder was paralysed at his command. "You should still be able to speak. Identify yourself."

"It's me, you arse," a woman hoarsely replied.

"Hawke," Anders said with mild surprise, easily countermanding the spell to let her move. "What are you doing here? I thought you were on a job."

"I was," she replied, limping into the firelight. She was clutching her gut, and sputtered a breath. It sounded wet. "I thought to come bleed on your floor a bit. You know how it goes."

Anders sighed and stepped forward to catch her as she crumpled, "I take it it didn't go well?"

"Would you believe me if I said it went better for me?" Hawke choked, her legs giving out. "How does it go - you should see the other guy?"

"Is he dead?"

"Yes," Hawke strained, closing her eyes in pain as Anders urged her back to her feet. "Left Archon Remus in the bed of his own mistress, no less."

"Hah," Anders shook his head, and they hobbled slowly down the hall to his room. He glanced further into the manor before bolting the door and hurrying to where she'd slumped on the ground.

With scarce a word, the lamps about the room flared bright, and Hawke hissed, "Maker, damned the light."

"And here I thought you broke in the back door to seek healing," Anders murmured, tugging open her shredded armour with knowing ease.

"Maybe I'd prefer something else in the back door," she murmured, choking on the sound as a freed buckle let her bleed more profusely. "Or not. I... Maybe those lamps aren't bad, are they going out..."

"Hawke - Marian, stay with me," Anders said, lightly smacking her cheek. When her head lolled, he sighed and let his hands drift down her body. The blood tugged at his command, and she groaned as the lacerations knit together. When she sighed and the tension eased from her, the blue glow in his eyes dissipated and he looked down on her. He held the mage-light in his hand, looking in her eyes and turning her chin, "How many fingers?"

"Two in me, please," Marian murmured, grinning as he shook his head. With some lethargy, she snagged his robe and pulled him into her lips. Sighing, she forced it deeper twining their tongues as she lay on the floor.

Anders pulled back, wiping his lips on the sleeve of his robe, "Let me wipe the blood first next time, mmm?"

"It isn't sexy?" Hawke said as she tried to sit up, prompting a groan. "Remind me no to do that."

Kissing her hair, Anders cradled her neck and whispered, "Thank you for doing this."

"It's the least I can do," Hawke replied, and she huffed as he helped her up and stripped her down. "You've done a great deal for my sister."

"She is a bright young woman," Anders replied, easing her arms out of the padded under armour, discarding it on the floor. The servants would tend to it in morning. "A good heart, and very powerful. An unlikely combination."

"There's you," Hawke looked up to him, cradling an arm over the half-healed wounds.

Anders almost rolled his eyes and helped her back to the bed, retrieving a salve from his apothecary supplies to apply to her skin. Sitting against her on the bed, he plied it over her skin to seal the last of the wounds and ease her bruises. "Us Fereldens need to stick together."

"I like the sound of that," Hawke murmured, grinning as he shook his head again.

"Is that all I am to you," Anders sniffed dramatically.

"A cock?" Hawke sighed, putting her hand over his. "Goodness, no, you're also a damned good healer." When he chuckled, she added, "And you warm my bed better than a mabari."

"How kind of you to say," Anders murmured, and when he tried to rise, she pulled him back close.

"I kill for you, how much does that mean?" Hawke whispered, rolling her hips to press her leg up against his loins. Her lips found his neck, and Anders tilted into her, kissing her roughly. Their tongues meshed, and her fingers pulled at his robes to shuck them onto the floor, leaving him in thin britches.

Hawke sucked a breath through her teeth as the remnants of her injuries twinged, but Anders was oblivious as he tugged open her chemise. The cloth was thick with sweat, and his mouth found her breast, tasting the salt of her exertion. Hawke closed her eyes, rolling into his body as his tongue flecked, giving way to teeth that teased her nipple hard.

"Will this suffice in payment for your work?" Anders murmured against her skin, tugging her smalls over her thighs to run his hand over the mount of her sex.

"I'll have to see what you're offering first," Hawke murmured. "Don't care to short change myself."

Tilting up to her mouth once more, Anders slid his fingers down through her wet lips, kissing her above as he teased them in below. Hawke moaned into his mouth, beckoning the kiss as he settled into a deep rhythm, stroking in the tight passage of her sex. She dug her heels into the bed, scrunching the blankets down as he fingered her, a slow fuck that lit the fire as he bit her bottom lip and kissed her with need.

"Yes," Hawke hissed as his fingers hit deep, a knowing wiggle that pressed the swollen nub of her G-spot with each rhythmic flick. His teeth were in her neck then, the hardness of his cock against her thigh.

"Or more yet," Anders murmured against her skin, listening to the hastening breaths and pitching clips of air that his affections wrought. She was lithe, her hair jet-black and cut short for ease of her craft. He adored the olive hue of her skin, the smell of her sex and the sweat on her skin. Even the blood that mingled, the hint of terror in knowing she had killed those he wished.

"Yes," Hawke sighed again, back tensing and lifting her from the bed, pressing her hips into his hand. He squeezed her ass, fingers buried to the hilt as his muscles tensed to fuck her in this simple way. With his other hand, he undid the britches and kicked them away, knocking more of the bedsheets with them. She nearly purred with pleasure and want, "All of it."

Anders pulled his fingers out, smearing the wetness through the dark curls of hair on her sex. When she groaned, he put the hand over her mouth, filling her nostrils with the heady scent of her arousal, and she writhed. Hawke opened her eyes half lidded as she reached for him, fingers gliding up his shaft, and he scarce acknowledged it as he reached for the vial of oil on the bedside table.

Their eyes met as he tipped it into her hand, and she cupped the oil over his cock, stroking and plying the loose skin around the reddened head. Anders eyes bowed a moment, and he leaned forward to kiss her once more. As they met with need, he bit her lip, pressing her tongue in a play for power, soon nibbling over her neck and catching her ear.

"Turn over," he panted, and her fingers released his throbbing cock.

Hawke met his eyes as she turned with a feline elasticity, clawing the pillow to pin it under her stomach and angle her ass towards him. Anders sighed, dragging his still damp fingers down her back, fingers wrinkled from the wetness of her sex. She dropped her head on the pillow as those fingers plied over the tight button, her breath shuddering as he slowly eased on into her ass.

"Yes," Hawke breathed, her arm wrapping over her head and tangling in her hair.

Anders watched the tension up her spine as he worked his fingers slowly in, listening to the shifts in her breath as he plied another finger in. Holding them there, he wiggled in the same way he had in her cunt, leaning forward to press against her back. "I could make this easier for you... but there is something about how you squirm."

"Maker, Anders... " Hawke's breath hitched again as he pressed his fingers deeper before drawing them out. His lips and tongue slipped along her ear as the head of his cock nudged the scarce loosed ring of her ass. "Yes."

"It's irresistible," he purred, sitting up t0 press her shoulder to the bed. Pinning her like this roused the spirit within him. There was resistance to the illusion of her forced submission to him - and it made his loins throb. He had learned well enough to rein the power of the spirit, to bend it to his will - it would be the power here.

"Please, Anders," Hawke buried her face against the bed, shuddering as he teased and stretched that unwelcoming hole. "Fuck my ass... fuck me."

How could he resist such pleading from the strong-willed rogue? There was a flutter in his heart, as much as the throb in his cock, and Anders' fingers slid up her neck to hold her in place as he eased his oiled shaft into her tight backside. She groaned out heavily, shuddering, and her muscles tightened around him, halting the egress. Hissing, he gave his hips the needed thrust, hips flush to her ass and buried to the base.

Anders shook his hair back, the ties having come loose, and tensing his thighs he whispered the words, and ran his hand down her spine. There was the soft spark of light at his fingertips, and Hawke twitched back into him, jerking herself back against his cock and prompting a groan and a muffled laugh. He closed his eyes, feeling the tight squeeze around the throb of his pulse in his shaft, before willing himself into a rhythm, a slow fuck that drew out her sighs and growing pleading against the bed.

Hawke's hand slinked between her thighs as she pressed her face into the bed, presenting her ass to Anders' thrusts. The tensile pleasure in her loins skipped stronger as she flicked across her clit, filled to the brink in her backside. Gasping for air, she shuddered as the crackles of magic twitched her spine and hips again, body rocking with the smack of his hips.

Plying her hips, Anders watched Hawke's free hand snake to the headboard, gripping it as he heard her uttered encouragement amidst pants. Eyes nearly rolling back, he gripped her shoulder with his free hand and fell into a frantic pace, the well of pleasure rolling up through his gut as she cried out, the sound muffling into the bed. Soon enough, his seed spilt, easing the way in the tight passage, and he panted hard, leaning over her.

"Fuck," Hawke panted, softening forward into the bed as she shuddered heavily, pulse hard in her chest and still fluttering with the oblivion of her orgasm. It left her arms almost numb, and her heartbeat throbbed in her loins, lips there thick and wet. She smeared her fingers over them, shivering again with remnants of pleasure. She sighed heavily as Anders rejuvenated them, and he pulled out to collapse on the bed beside her.

Panting into the bed, they lay there for a time before Hawke turned her head to look at him. He was watching her, a subtle sheen of sweat on his skin. She pulled the pillow from her stomach and tucked it under her head, lethargically dragging herself into his arm. Anders held her against him, their bodies radiating heat in the low light. She had scarce noticed the lamps dimming.

"So," Hawke whispered in a huffed breath. Anders tilted his cheek against her forehead, and she closed her eyes. "Who is next on my list? I could get used to this."

Anders chuckled and wrapped his other arm around her, still breathing heavily as he kissed her temple and cheek, "Perhaps the most challenging. Magister Danarius."

"Mmm," Hawke murmured, growing heavy and satiated in his arms. "I like a challenge."

* * *

The elves moved around the large oval table, removing dishes and wiping spills with nary a word as the mages conversed. Hawke stood in her appointed place by the window, hands clasped behind her back as she kept an eye on everyone's hands, and a curious second glance at the branded elf that moved with precise grace to refill the mages' wine.

Hawke bit her tongue, recalling her conversation with Anders at his apartments prior to the dinner. That she were allowed to attend was exceptional in itself, but impertinence or any improper actions on her part would not be tolerated - it could be life threatening, in fact. Danarius was known for his strict methods and sadistic pleasures. He valued his control almost as much as his magical abilities - the more of each, the happier he was.

A small waif of an elf had taken her daggers at the door, speaking in a willowy voice before whisking away out of sight. A pity that her daggers were seen as the threat - they didn't need to know the years spent in Antiva as her father led them to Tevinter, and the combat instruction she received in payment for his services as a healer. Even armour scarce impeded her - disabling templars in full plate was a particular favourite of hers.

Something she hadn't needed to do in years.

From his place at the table, Anders eyes drew to the tattooed elf as he leaned close and refilled his goblet. He lifted the glass and said, "Thank you."

"Anders," Hadriana chuckled from her place at the magister's side. "Ever the novelty - I truly never tire of foreign mages finding a home here."

Anders raised his brow, lips parting as he hesitated drinking. Smiling as was needed, he said, "Have I done something amusing again? Without even trying, I'm getting good."

Danarius fingered the edge of his goblet, and the elf returned to refill his glass. The magister scarce looked at him as he took it up, "She means your courtesy to slaves."

"That we even have to speak of it," another female mage lightly laughed. "Where are you from?"

"Ferelden," Anders replied, taking a sip of the wine. It was good, and he licked it from his lips. "This is delightful."

"Aggregio Pavali, 8:99." Hadriana replied with pride, swirling her own glass.

"The rumours say that it was such a fine year because of the dragons," Danarius idly mused, and the other two mages chuckled. Their apprentices joined as well.

"Anders was trained in the Circle there," Hadriana emphasized, watching him across the table. "No doubt he feels a kinship for the enslaved."

Anders chuckled darkly, his eyes dropping as the crackle of energy beneath his skin was quelled with a thought, "Perhaps I was merely thankful he didn't spill any."

"Something my Fenris would never do," Danarius replied, not bothering to look as the elf returned to his station behind him.

"And you must excuse me, I have never seen tattoos such as those," Anders continued, before adding, "He has a palpable presence."

"Lyrium," Danarius replied with a smug grin. "It is lyrium etched into his skin. He is my most valued possession."

The conversation continued amicably and false, Hawke listening to each word from where she stood, her eyes now following Fenris. It was obvious he was a formidable warrior, each limb and muscle honed to a fine perfection – and the brands only accentuated it. He moved wholly with the purpose of his master's will, before standing stoic and menacing in the wings. He had a presence unlike the other slaves. It was only once he glanced her way, and his eyes were stone.


	2. Caught Red-Handed

The conclave dispersed at the word of the Imperial Archon, and Anders gathered his notes with a simple swipe of his hand. Handing them to the servant at his side, he rose and filed down through the curia. He paid what attention was needed to those who came his way, polite but cold – it was a mask he had learned out of necessity.

Through the pillared halls, Anders swept with the young elf at his side, and weaving through the crowd it seemed no time at all till he was halted by her fearful gasp.

"Eheu," came the reply, and there was the sharp smack of skin as the lady mage struck the slave down. "Mind your feet, servus."

"I beg your forgiveness, mistress," the girl replied, falling to her knees as she gathered the dropped satchel. She left Anders' papers on the cobbles as she proffered it to the woman.

"Hadriana," Anders said, inclining his head as he took the satchel and placed it in the apprentice's hands.

"A pleasure," Hadriana replied, inclining her head. With a flick of her wrist, a reed from her sleeve slapped across the elf's hands. "Retrieve the papers. You insult your master."

"I-I am sorry mistress," the girl stammered as she cowed down and collected the parchment threatening to blow away. "Master, please forgive me!"

"It is alright," Anders said with tempered ease. He glanced to his fellow mage, voice hardening, "I will not see you discipling my servants again."

"Then keep your chattel in line," Hadriana replied, swinging her satchel over her shoulder before continuing into the street.

"Here," Anders said, stooping to gather the parchment. He thrust it into her arms as she cringed away from him, extending her hands for him. When no hit came, she tilted her head the other way. He sighed, "Rise. We go home."

Walking slow enough to ensure she kept up, Anders kept his head down until they had reached his apartments. They were still in the proper quarter, but closer to the sea. From the rooftop gardens, he could see the water on a good day – something that reminded him of the joy of being free.

"I am sorry, master," the girl repeated once they were inside, hanging her head.

"Think nothing of it, Fiona," Anders replied, motioning deeper in the house. "Put them in my study, then see if your mother needs you."  
It had been a long day of discussions. He was low on the rung, but that only meant it necessitated his presence at the weekly conclaves all the more. He needed information, his face needed to be known – and though he had already defeated two magisters to earn the seat, he was a foreigner. They did not know his true potential, and without the contacts, he was isolated. But it would not keep him from affecting what small things he could – from bettering what lives he could.

In time, he would do more.

Upstairs onto the flat tiled roof, he found Hawke conversing with her sister and mother. She rose at seeing him, light footed to take his side and pull his cheek in for a kiss.

"I missed you," she said with a daisy smile.

"Entirely mutual," he replied, planting a chaste kiss on her nose. "Where is Carver?"

Hawke's expression lost its mirth as she led him back to her family, "Off being himself."

Leandra shook her head, a hand over her mouth before she said, "He's gone to fight the Qunari."

"There was nothing we could do, mother," Bethany said, taking her hand. She looked up to Anders, "I wish I had known more regarding the fealty requirements."

Anders sighed and sat down on one of the wood benches, and Hawke joined him as he spoke, "He is low ranked in the city guard. It only serves to reason he would be conscripted into the war."

"I know," Leandra said, shaking her head again. "Maker, I know."

"His pension will keep you and Bethany both," Hawke impressed, crossing one leg over the other. "Perhaps even foot the bribes to find you a proper apprenticeship, sister."

"I cannot rightly take you on in a more official capacity," Anders spoke before she could reply. "There are good people in this city. I have been canvassing for someone you would be paired well with."

"If only your father were here," Leandra quietly said.

"Carver knows which end to wave around," Hawke light-heartedly said. "He'll be happy, mother. You know how much he enjoys stabbing things." She made a peculiar face at Anders before grinning and holding her tongue.

"It will do well for your standing in the city," Ander said, after rolling his eyes at Hawke.

"As will some work I've lined up," Hawke nodded, before putting her hand over Anders'. "Things will work out for the best."

* * *

Hawke almost closed her eyes as she knelt poised in the shadow of the desk, on the tips of her toes and contorted to stay out of sight. There were footsteps down the hall, she could place them on the stairs. Perhaps her contacts had been right - they had been quick to dismiss the possibility of infiltrating Danarius' estate.

But she had. Hawke couldn't help but inwardly grin as she listened. The voices were too distant to make out, muffled by the walls. The opportunity had presented itself to glean more information from the magister and help Anders' cause. She couldn't deny, the challenge thrilled her.

Hawke breathed slow and steady, straining to keep it silent in the position she held as she lowered a hand to the desk to steady herself. Her calves had begun to tremble with the strain. The silence in the house stretched on. Perhaps it was coincidence - she could still escape with the books.

When Hawke stood up, there was the whoosh of air and a streak of blue, and she just barely missed the hand advancing upon her. Caught in the surreal charge, she gasped out and she was pinned against the wall, and the fist of her captor smashed through the plaster beside her. The flaring blue of his tattoos made her dark-adjusted eyes strain.

"You," Fenris rumbled, and they fought for dominance. When Hawke tried to throw him, his superior strength won, and he kneed her in the gut. She wheezed and crumpled, but he held her against the wall. "I know you."

"Indeed," Hawke groaned, arching her brow as she drew breath. "Inclined to let me go?"

"You're a thief," he sneered, drawing his arm back. The brandss on his skin flared bright, and the energy coalesced as he formed a fist. "My master does not tolerate larceny."

Fenris' forearm slid higher to pin Hawke's throat and cut off her reply, a peculiar grin on his lips as his muscles tensed. Before he could move, the floor beneath them flared bright with a glyph and they froze in place.

"Fenris," Hadriana said from the doorway, stave relaxing to her side as she advanced. "Always so faithful - so quick to kill. Don't you recognize her?"

Tensing visibly and withdrawing to a more submissive stance as the mage released him from her glyph, Fenris replied, "The Ferelden mage. She is his bodyguard."

"And you would kill her," Hadriana pouted, and traced her finger down the tattoo on his chin and neck. He closed his eyes instead of flinching.

"It is what Master has decried," Fenris said, his eyes growing distant under her caresses. "She is an intruder."

"Indeed," Hadriana replied, before motioning to Hawke, who was still immobilized in the glyph. "Bind her arms and legs and bring her to my room."

"Master will wish to-"

Hadriana turned and the switch was in her hand, the reed leaving a seething red mark across Fenris cheek, "Do not speak out of place, servus. You may be his pet, but you are bound to my word."

"Yes, Mistress," Fenris replied, dropping his head to retrieve the rope needed.

Hawke felt her pulse rise in her chest as sleep edged at her consciousness, hearing the arcanum on Hadriana's lips before darkness enveloped her.

It wasn't light or sound that woke Hawke from the forced sleep, but the slice of pain across the soles of her feet. She clipped a cry and lifted her head, blind in the lamplight as the delicate skin throbbed like it was against heated iron. When she tried to move, she found her arms bound from elbow to thumb, her legs spread and tied beneath her. The air was against her skin - she, she was almost naked, she had to be. A hand rested on her hair, keeping her from moving further.

Lyrium. She could smell the lyrium. It sent her back to her childhood, cradled in her father's arms as they fled the templars. It was a sweet cool scent on his breath, and there was an energy about him that tugged at her gut still. It was a smell on Anders' breath and in his kisses - to quell the spirit, he said. To satiate it.

The heavy hand weighted Hawke's head down as another stroke hit the soles of her feet, and she choked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Awake, then?" Hadriana asked from where she flanked the pair.

"She is," Fenris said from where he sat, Hawke leant into his lap. He brushed her dark hair from her eyes, letting the bound woman see the mage in her periphery.

"Then tell me what you're doing in my master's home," Hadriana said, bringing the length of bamboo down upon Hawke's soles once more.

Choking on her heard breath, Hawke jerked into Fenris' thigh, clenching as the blows hit, and it was only when they abated that she let herself breath. Gasping hard, she blinked the tears in her eyes, finally able to gasp, "Couldn't sleep."

"I am in no mood for glib idiots," Hadriana plainly said, and her wrist darted to smack Hawke's bare thighs.

The bound rogue closed her eyes, finding some reprieve in the softened curves of her thighs, twitching even as the fiery strokes dipped to her inner thighs. She clenched her teeth, trying to breath through her nose as the pace became erratic, leaving her tensed and quivering as she awaited the next.

"You had very specific books in your possession," Hadriana said, pausing so she could be heard. "Why. Did your master wish them?"

Hawke shuddered, almost laughing as she huffed on her breath in a dizzy way, "I have no master."

"Do you enjoy the perspective, Fenris?" Hadriana said as she slapped across Hawke's thighs again, moving between them and the increasingly reddened soles of her feet. Hawke was trembling against his thigh, breath shuddering as she tried to reign herself in and keep from screaming, but a pitched whine was escaping. "Did Anders pay you to come here? Is your silence worth his coin?"

Fenris remained silent, his bare hand across Hawke's dark hair as she choked on another sound of pain into his tights. The bamboo made a defined thwick in the air with each staggered blow. It was a game he knew well. The times his skin had been mended from the lacerations, from the bruises and breaks, only so Hadriana might snap it red once more. It roused something against his will - but what will was there?

"I...I don't speak to whores..." Hawke gasped, flexing her fingers into fists to protect her palms as another set of lashes licked up her thighs. Andraste, this was Andraste's final moment, burning like this. She started laughing at the pain, shuddering as she laid into Fenris thigh. Useless feet. But she would never walk again anyway. "You smell nice, elf."

The taunting only aggravated Hadriana further, and the mage shook her head as her wrist snapped to crack on Hawke's feet once more. A pair of the hits had broken skin, leaving a smattering of blood flecking from the bamboo.

"Hadriana," the firm command came from the door, and the woman stopped as their eyes turned to Danarius. "I know you have your pleasures, but I will not have it disturb my work."

"I apologize," Hardiana bowed her head, a sheen on her brow from the exertion. "I found this thief in your library and wished to soften her resolve before presenting her to you."

Fenris briefly glanced up from Hawke's hair to Hadriana at the omission.

"Present her to me," Danarius said, his words firm. It was a tone the elf knew well. The magister crossed his arms, still standing in the doorway.

Hooking his hands under Hawke's arms, Fenris rose and lifted her with nonchalant ease to hold her before his master. He kept her feet from carpet beneath them.

Danarius tilted her chin up, her eyes dilated wide and swimming into some space in the abating pain. "You are Anders' bodyguard."

Hawke huffed a little, shivering into a peculiar laugh as she looked up to him, "Can barely hold my own, how... might I g-get a job like that?"

A knowing smirk passed the man's wide lips, and Danarius' brow lifted as he said, "Interesting. Do not think I am as dulled as my apprentice. Take her to the front hall."

Before another word could be said, Fenris adjusted his grip, fingers digging into the sides of Hawke's breasts as he swept out of the lamplight of Hadriana's chambers and through the lush halls of Danarius' mansion. In the dizzy float of pain, Hawke scarce acknowledge the world as it passed, only laughing again and crumpling forward when she was lowered to the ground.

"Don't suppose you could let me go?" she asked, before losing her balance and falling forward onto her face with a smack. She cursed under her breath, opening her eyes some as she asked, "No?"

"Silence," Fenris said beneath his breath from somewhere beside her.

"You don't have to do this," Hawke suddenly said, the words distorted from her cheek being smushed against the floor.

"Here," Danarius' voice came from across the room, light warming the room as their footsteps entreated.

Fenris moved to take the manacles and chains the magister held, tilting his head as he awaited further instruction.

"Chain her to the gates of the estate - ensure she can be seen from the street," Danarius simply said, clasping his hands together as the elf moved. He waited, unmoved by Hawke's protests. When they were out the door, he turned to Hadriana, her disquiet obvious. "Do you think I'm a fool?"

"I - no, no of course not master," she replied, a moment before his hand came across her cheek.

"Then do not presume to know more than I," Danarius coldly said, glancing towards the door.

"I merely do not understand, master," Hadriana said, her voice constrained.

"I am well aware they are lovers. He will come for her," Danarius turned, beckoning his mage-light. "If he has not shown by sunset, flay her. We will see how a second night treats her."

Hawke could scarce walk as Fenris led her down the cobbles, and she struggled in his grip - to the point that he had to lift her once more. The night was oppressive and humid around them, the lamps dim and the shadows forgiving. But dawn would not be.

"Maker's balls, give me something," she hastily said. She was still bound and practically nude from the waist down. She was planted on her knees in view of the street, and she cringed at the pain, the welts on her thighs and feet darkened now.

Fenris linked the chain through the gate before securing the manacles around her ankles, seeming oblivious to her pleading. He hesitated a moment and touched her shoulder before turning towards the mansion and leaving her to the night.


	3. Paid in Blood

"Just tell me where she is," Anders said, pinching his brow before leaning on the table.

The dwarf took a draw from his pipe and shrugged, glancing through the shady chamber.

"Damn it, Varric," Anders said, fingers on the table clenching into a fist. "I thought you were our friend."

"She didn't tell me where she was going last night," Varric replied, shrugging absently. "Some job she was pretty hush-hush about."

Anders paled and looked down, and some of his blond hair came loose, "It was for me."

"Even if you've been here a few years, Blondie, you still don't seem to get how things work," Varric replied, casually drawing a box from his side to open and lay two small lyrium vials out. "There is someone watching you."

"I know," Anders said, sinking further into the chair and taking a few coins from his purse to lay out and continue the charade.

"Then what was the job," Varric said, rolling the blue glowing cylinders one at a time into the mage's waiting grasp.

Closing his eyes, Anders spoke through his teeth, "A magister."

"Look, I've heard something of this crusade you seem to be on - oh no, don't get me wrong, I want no part in it - but you are treading on very thin ice."

"How do you even know about the thickness of ice," Anders sighed. "The rivers here never freeze."

"No," Varric said, taking the coins from the table. "But I've a good imagination."

Anders rubbed his hands down his face and spoke through his fingers, "I wanted information on Danarius."

"Shit, Blondie," Varric sighed, leaning back in his chair. He signalled for the server to come fill his flagon, just staring at the mage across from him as she did her work and left. "Then maybe he's the one you should track down. Getting involved in that man's business might as well be suicidal."

Back into the streets, Anders made his way across the city with little hesitation. It was already late afternoon - his hours at the clinic had kept him. He had not thought to worry until returning home to find Leandra in his drawing room. Hawke had not returned home. His footsteps slowed as he neared the familiar gates of the magister. A person was cowed against the gate, a smat of dark hair on their head. He ran towards them without a thought.

"Marian," Anders said as he took a knee beside her. "What have they done to you?"

Lifting her head from where she'd slumped to rest, Hawke licked her cracked lips, "It wasn't the warmest welcome."

"You're a fool," he said, holding her steady as he summoned the magic to heal her wounds. They were difficult to see in the waning light as the sun dipped below the towers of the city.

"Your fool," she replied, closing her eyes as the sores eased. She sighed out heavily, her voice crinkling as she said, "Please tell me you brought water?"

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't expect anything like this," He quietly said, tugging a rag from his pocket. He froze a block of ice on it and put it in her waiting mouth. "Just suck."

Letting the ice melt a moment, Hawke adjusted the rag in her cheek and murmured through it, "That's what he said."

Anders laughed once in disbelief, before moving, "Let's get you out of here."

"Oh, I don't think that will be happening," Hadriana said from her place on the walk, drawing his eyes up.

Standing, Anders clenched his fist to contain the seethe of fire under his skin, "I demand you release her, what right do you have?"

"You are well aware of the laws regarding trespass, Anders," Hadriana replied with condescending sweetness. "Or have you neglected that aspect in your studies of the Imperium?"

"I am a proper citizen of the Imperium and a member of the conclave," Anders took a few steps to situate himself between them. He stabbed a finger in Hawke's direction, "You will release my property this instance, or so help me..."

"And what will you do?" Their heads turned as Danarius casually approached with Fenris at his shoulder. "What power do you think you have - will they even listen?"

"It's not worth it," Hawke whispered hoarsely from her place on the ground. She closed her eyes. "We will find another way."

"Take her in the house, Hadriana," Danarius calmly said, watching Anders. "I am within my rights to deal with theft as I see fit."

Other citizens had stopped in the street to watch them, and for a moment defeat flickered in Anders eyes. They were within earshot. As Hadriana unshackled Hawke and pulled her to her feet, he stepped forward, "Fight me then."

Danarius waved a hand when Hadriana looked at him, and the two women continued back into his manor, "A duel? Official? By the rules of the senate."

"Yes," Anders said, his stomach flipping at his brashness. "The victor gains possession – not just of her. Of everything."

A dark glint in his eyes, Danarius briefly nodded, "Very well. At the forum in two days time. She is mine until then."

When the mage turned away, Fenris hesitated, watching him with an uncommon curiosity before following in his master's wake. Anders watched the door through which Hawke had been taken, the dread in his stomach weighing him down.

* * *

"A pity all your lovely marks are gone," Hadriana casually said, as she checked Hawke's bonds.

When Danarius came inside, she paused to await his approval.

"I will leave them in your care, Hadriana," Danarius said, his expression unreadable. "The boy has challenged me to a duel. I must go to arrange the details. And yes, do as you please with her."

"Thank you, sir," Hadriana hid her smile as she bowed her head.

Touching Fenris' cheek, Danarius looked the elf over and said, "Protect your mistress. I have heard Hawke is quite the formidable opponent."

"Yes, Master," Fenris said in a subdued way. He watched as Danarius left before following Hadriana down the hall – the mage had her hand upon the back of Hawke's neck. He recognized the look in her eyes. He withdrew into himself as they settled into her quarters, barring the door and watching only as much as was needed – he would do his master's bidding.

"Kneel," Hadriana simply said, and when Hawke resisted the command, uttered words of weakness on her breath. The whirl of magical energy sapped the rogue's limbs, and she sunk to the floor.

"When Anders kills Danarius, he will come next for you," Hawke said, her voice still dry. She lifted her head as she mage moved. "Actually, scratch that. I'll kill you myself."

"Very spirited," Hadriana said, her eyes turning to Fenris where he stood. "And so very loyal. It only adds to your beauty."

"And you're a sadistic bit –agh!" Hawke snapped in surprise and nearly fell over as Hadriana cut across her shoulders, slicing her shirt and spilling blood. She grit her teeth, hissing as she made to reply - but there was a ghost in her skin.

"Shhh," whispered Hadriana.

The blood gathered as a mist in the air, and Hawke froze. She struggled with the sudden weight, her tongue unresponsive. She saw the world in the sudden window of her eyes, a panic that she couldn't address. Sensation was rushing back into her limbs – the ropes were being cut, her bonds were broken… this was her chance.

From where she knelt on the floor, Hawke whined, the sound keening as she fell forward onto all fours. Her right hand trembled, barely lifting from the hardwood. The Arcanum the mage spoke filled Hawke's senses, slowing and echoing in her thoughts, and as Hadriana sliced her hand, the ground darkened red and Hawke groaned.

The oppressive weight had vanished, leaving her mind floating. Hawke gasped as she tried to gain her bearings. Why was there so much blood? Lifting her eyes, she focused on the robed woman before her.

"Adoratio," Hadriana purred, affectionately lifting Hawke's chin.

The word seemed to melt something in the rogue, and a breath shuddered from her lips. Hawke closed her eyes, putting her cheek in the woman's hand. It sent a thrill through her, and it seemed there was nothing else in the world.

Fenris pressed his lips in a line, tucking his chin down as the blood magic sealed the word. He had seen it used before – magic that had been part of his life for as long as he could remember. He had seen slaves die at his Master's hand to fuel his will. Hadriana revelled in its use to feed her hedonistic lifestyle. Yet it never ceased to unsettle him. His Master's apprentice was frivolous with the risks.

"Come, little bird," Hadriana said, her eyes flicking to Fenris at the slight. "You have been unwell."

"I have?" Hawke quietly asked, furrowing her brow at her hazy thoughts. She struggled to move, her arms stiff, and for a moment she stared at the impressions lacing her arms. She took the mage's hand and followed her deeper in the chamber to the bed on rubbery legs.

"I missed you dearly… but you are all mended now," Hadriana said with a silk tongue. She ran her hand across Hawke's breast and down her hip, before kissing her cheek. "Tell me you've missed me?"

The caress stirred something in Hawke, and she sighed, looking into Hadriana's eyes, "I… I missed you." Her chin dropped to watch the other woman's fingers run over her scars. "I… where are my clothes?"

"You took them off, don't you remember?" Hadriana laughed lightly, plying her nipples.

Hawke caught her breath, an uncommon flush on her cheeks as she murmured, "No, how silly of me. Then perhaps the real question is, what are you doing with yours still on?"

"Much better," Hadriana purred, cupping Hawke's cheek and pulling her down into her lips.

Hawke groaned at the reward, her heart fluttering in her chest at the familiarity – familiarity she couldn't place, but that thrummed under her skin. This woman, who was this woman, she needed her, needed the taste of her skin and the sound of her sighs. Further thoughts eluded her, dissipating into the fog in her mind.

With a sudden urgency, Hawke tangled her hands in Hadriana's robes and tugged them up over her head, tossing them on the floor before pressing a knee between the mage's thighs and urging her back against the bed. Their lips enmeshed again, even as Hawke pulled Hadriana's breast band away and let their skin stick. When Hadriana withdrew for air, her blood slave slid downward.

Hawke's mouth left a trail on the woman's neck, as she ground her thigh into her smalls. Each little suckle and ply of her teeth brought a growing tension in Hadriana's breath, and when Hawke swirled her tongue around her breast, a sigh followed. They were pert but soft, the skin yielding against her tongue and wrinkling to a hard nub as she nipped and toyed.

The smalls against her thigh dampened hot as she ground, and Hawke glanced up to Hadriana as she plucked the nipple with her teeth and moved to her other breast. Hawke's skin was dark compared to her own, golden from the sun and dusty from her time in the street – a time buried in her mind. Hadriana rolled her eyes closed, tangling her fingers in Hawke's hair to urge her mouth on, and slowly teeth marks showed around the pale breast, each one a slow bite that set the mage's heart faster.

"Yes, sweetness," Hadriana purred, pulling at Hawke's hair as the woman caressed down her body.

Hawke pushed the smallclothes aside and slipped her fingers through the damp curls and netherlips. Her dark eyes looked to Hadriana for approval as she teased, exploring the shape and heated softness. In reply, the mage pulled Hawke to her, kissing her roughly and prompting the rogue to bury a finger knuckle-deep.

Muscles tensed about it as Hawke wiggled her finger, claiming Hadriana's mouth with her tongue as she penetrated her with a second finger. The moans were lost in the kiss, and Hawke pressed her thigh against her hand to keep it deep as she stroked the damp tightness. Hadriana arced into her, their bodies cloyed together with sweat from the hot day.

Hawke tore her lips away, thoughts heady and swimming with the unnatural adoration, and she slunk down Hadriana's body with feline poise, nipping her breast in passing. Her mistress's fingers slipped through the bloody gash across her back, prompting Hawke to hiss, but it was lost as she traced her mouth over the curves of Hadriana's pelvis. They were light kisses, caresses, and her tongue dipped into the soft hollows of her curves, making the mage writhe as Hawke continued to finger her.

Hawke's mouth closed on the fount of Hadriana's sex, tongue swirling over the small nub there and causing the mage to moan. Closing her eyes, she flecked and ground over the clit, fingers moving deep to draw a more urgent sigh.

Fenris stood with his eyes averted out the window. The mage's growing cries of pleasure did little for him, unable to remove the cruelties she perpetrated from his thoughts. He had grown tired of the games Hadriana played, but was thankful her attention was diverted from him in the end. It was enough to be ignored.

It was some time before the addled Hawke was sent from Hadriana's bed, and her senses began to recover as Fenris restrained her arms once more.

"She will stay with you tonight," Hadriana said, adjusting the robe on her shoulders. It barely concealed the unmarred curves of her body. "And if she escapes, it will be on your head."

"Yes, Mistress," Fenris said without hesitation, gripping Hawke by the back of the neck to lead her from the room. There was just barely enough slack in the ropes on her legs to let her walk knock-kneed down the hall. He led them into an ancillary chamber connected to Danarius' master bedroom.

Hawke's head rolled as he sat her down and tied her arms to the post of his bed, "En.. enjoy the show?"

Fenris didn't reply as he fetched a candle, and used the wax to better seal the ropes and conceal the knots. He scarce looked at Hawke as she tried to lift her head, dark circles under her eyes.

"Does she do that to you?"

Hesitating as he put the candle back on its stand, Fenris replied, "No. My Master would not allow it."

"I cannot think," Hawke whispered, her eyes dilated as she looked across the room.

"It is the effects of her control," Fenris more quietly said. "It will pass."

"But do I want it to?" Hawke mused.

Fenris returned to Danarius' room, and Hawke watched as he went about and repositioned many of the things tidied by the servants of the house. He finally drew the curtains and lit the lamps, before coming near her once more. He spoke as he stripped the pliant armour he wore, "If I find you trying to escape, you will wish you were dead."

"He will help you," Hawke whispered, shuddering as she regained more of her senses. "Anders will help all of you."

With little shame, Fenris shucked the last of his clothing and tossed back the covers of his meagre bed to crawl in. He pulled the sheet around his waist as he lay down and said, "Sleep while you can."

Hawke watched him as she sat on the floor, listening to the sound of his breathing. When it shifted deeper and more evenly, she tested the strength of her bonds, her hands beginning to numb.


	4. Lip Service

Hawke's head rolled as she woke, and she groaned, her neck stiff from the position she sat in. She could scarce feel her arms tied to the bedpost, and her ass itched. If that weren't bad enough, she had to pee. But the sounds from across the room fanned away the smoke of sleep.

"Louder," Danarius murmured.

"Please, Master," Fenris replied, a deeper, throaty edge to his voice. His breath hitched, into a groan and there was a shadow of movement on the bed, and the sheets fell across the footboard. "Fuck your pet."

Laying her head back against the bedpost, Hawke shuddered from her place across the room, only able to see the faint silhouette of their movements. The heavy curtain across the windows glowed with light from the streets about the edges.

"Yes, Master," Fenris gasped, and there was movement on the bed. "Fill me, I need your seed. Fuck me."

"Good boy," Danarius purred, though the sounds in his throat deepened, matching the rhythm with which Fenris' own devolving moan. The silhouettes moved together, and Danarius bowed over his slave. There was the soft smack of lips and muffled groans as they fit together into one darkened mass, kisses broken by half breaths as their hips moved and the bed creaked.

Swallowing dryly, Hawke watched them move together, the clench and thrust of their union undeniable in the dark. Her eyes would give her no more, and her pulse throbbed in her loins with the heat there. She shivered as Fenris deeply groaned, the smack of skin together quickening.

Danarius sat up more, repositioning his arms, and he panted a breath in the dark, leaning his weight to pin Fenris' legs higher. The bed groaned as he bore down, and their panted breaths were unkempt by lips. The thrusts lengthened, hard and deep and urging each pant. A hand was visible over the elf's knee – his own, and he tensed to take his Master's cock.

Hawke exhaled roughly, before pressing her lips closed and trying to look away. She could hear it none the less, the aggression and pleasure, the pluck of their skin as it stuck. But it was changing even then, and she missed what Fenris said.

Danarius only chuckled and his arm moved up the chest of the man beneath him, his thrusts growing erratic as he panted, "No. Stay."

Eyes upon the silhouetted pair once more, Hawke breathed through her nose as she saw Danarius grip Fenris' knees down and take his pleasure from him. The magister cried out sharply, and his head fell back as he milked out the last strokes. He discarded the elf's knees and sat back on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, a lamp on the bed flared to life, and Hawke had to squint.

Without a word, Fenris crawled forward to his Master, all the more visible now in high contrast light and shadow, tattoos bright on his skin. He took Danarius' glistening cock in hand and leant over to swallow it down. The magister sighed out, putting his hand in Fenris' snowy hair to steady himself as the elf suckled and licked him clean. Fenris' own cock bobbed between his legs as he moved, hard and full as a sliver of his tongue became visible in the light.

"Good," Danarius sighed, caressing the elf's head almost affectionately. He exhaled more fully and leant against the bedpost, before looking directly at Hawke. "Very good."

"Please, Master," Fenris asked, lifting his mouth from the shaft. "Let your pet cum."

Licking his lips, Danarius scratched his fingers through Fenris hair and looked down at his eager features, "You've please me the past few days… and I would reward you with more than your own hand." He motioned casually towards the elf's bed.

Fenris followed his gaze to Hawke, and there was little surprise in his expression at seeing her gaze diverted and closed eyes. It was clear though he was not fond of the connotation, but he dropped his eyes and said in a breath, "If you wish it, Master."

"I do," Danarius plainly said.

From where she sat, Hawke breathed roughly through her nose, opening her eyes to glance their way as heard the bed creak with their movement. It was obvious now that the lamplight reached her. They knew she was awake.

Danarius followed closely as Fenris rose from the bed and came her way, willing the lamp in the ancillary room to light. Hawke turned her head and half-closed her eyes to adjust to the light.

"Hawke," Danarius said as he hovered behind Fenris. The elf's eyes were upon her, his lips in a dubious line. The magister put his hands on his slave's shoulders. "A hawk. Such a perfect match for my Fenris when you think of it. Strong creatures. Open your mouth."

"I'm not yours to command," Hawke said, looking up to them both, despite her position.

"Master," Fenris said, as though to speak, but he stopped himself, closing his eyes as the magister trailed his hands down his back and plied the elf's hips.

"She will comply one way or another," Danarius casually said, his fingers trailing back over Fenris' muscular ass. "You do as I say, or you will do it through your blood. Would you rather not be in control of that little inch?"

Hawke pressed her lips together, trembling a bit. She still couldn't feel her arms, and her legs were prickly with needles. The all too clear memory of Hadriana's actions… She flushed red as she lifted her head and reluctantly opened her mouth.

Standing nude against Fenris' back, Danarius nestled his softened member against his backside and placed his lips by the elf's ear, "Now fuck her mouth, little wolf."

Fenris shivered at the breath across his ear, and took Hawke's head in his hand, using the other to guide his hard cock into her mouth. Her lips fell around it, gliding over the sensitive skin and he groaned, pressing deep until he'd pinned her against the bedpost.

"Hard," Danarius purred, his eyes there upon the union, upon the distress in Hawke's features, attentive to the discomfort in Fenris' breathing. "Fuck her."

Gripping the top of the bedpost with his free hand, Fenris kept the other in her hair and moved into a quick thrust. Her saliva spilt down his sac as he partially choked her, hitting the back of her throat. He could feel the press of Danariu's half-hard cock against his backside, and he closed his eyes when Hawke shuddered, the protest in her throat muffled by his member.

"Yes, pet," Danarius whispered against his ear, and Fenris groaned, feeling the lips brush his elven ear. "Fuck, and think that it were my tongue there. My lips suckling you. Isn't that what you wish?"

"Yes, Master," Fenris said in a breath, fingers tightening in Hawke's hair as his hips smacked her mouth, and she tensed and almost choked again. "Yesss."

Danarius squeezed Fenris' hips and ground his loins into the cleft of his ass, leaning against the elf to feel the jerk of his thrusts, "Do you want this, pet?"

Pulse thudding hard, Fenris leant his head back against Danarius, jerking to glide in the wet lips that gripped his cock, "Yes, Master!"  
"Then cum," Danarius sighed against his ear, and in that moment, Fenris' thighs weakened, and he gasped a hard moan, swept into the sudden release.

Beneath him, Hawke kept her eyes closed, mouth pressed wide as the elf's seed poured into her throat, unable to resist. She tensed in his grasp as he pinned her, stroking out the spurts and slowing as he panted hard. Fenris leant onto the bedpost, closing his eyes as his pulse raced and the surge abated.

"You may sleep," Danarius said, and was gone, the lamps dimming at his command. He did something at his desk before retiring into his bed. The curtains beyond him fluttered slightly with the breeze that came in and freshened the hot air.

Fenris moved his hips to pull out of Hawke's mouth, and the woman gasped for air, cheeks burning. Her head dropped forward as he moved with a defined lethargy and sunk into his bed. She coughed and shuddered, closing her eyes.

"It is best you are quiet," Fenris quietly breathed.

"Fuck you," Hawke whispered, biting her lips closed as she trembled, trying to quiet herself in the now silent room.

* * *

"Keep up," Hadriana curtly said, turning to look where Fenris led Hawke barefooted in bonds towards the forum. There were two other elves with them too.

There were welts up her arms, and the way Hawke walked, it was obvious her feet and legs had taken considerable punishment. Despite that, an elf in Danarius' household had spent the morning bathing and grooming the woman, and her hair was drawn back to reveal the bruising and cuts along Hawke's shoulders. The simple blue shift she wore was cut low, and carried a magical air - enchanted to suppress her reflexes and weight her limbs.

Hawke looked at Hadriana defiantly, ignoring the eyes that turned their way - human slaves were more rare in Tevinter. To see an elf in her state was a common occurrence. The glances were subtle, but Hawke was an observant person.

Hopefully they enjoyed the view, she snidely thought.

When they arrived at the forum, they were ushered into an auxiliary amphitheatre, and Hawke lifted her head - Anders was already there. As were her mother and Bethany.

"Let me see her," Anders said, standing with his arms crossed and her father's staff in the crook of his elbow. She would recognize the lewd form of Andraste anywhere.

"She is here," Danarius said with mild amusement, beckoning with a simple gesture. Fenris marched her forward, and Hawke cringed as she was forced down to her knees. "A preview of the life she will soon live indebted to me for her crime. But it is a life, none the less."

"Oh, Marian," Leandra shook her head, covering the lower half of her face.

"Hadriana, fetch the arbiter," Danarius said with the same ease, turning to idly walk to the other end of the small amphitheatre. Fenris crossed his arms, standing ground and watching them.

Bethany lingered back as Leandra and Anders went to Hawke, knowing her actions in this public place would affect her standing as a mage in the city. There was little she could do to conceal the distress on her features, though.

"Let me heal you," Anders said. "Don't move."

"No," Hawke said, her voice laced with fatigue. She looked up to him, "Save it for the fight. You can heal me when he's dead."

"What have you gone and done now, my foolish little girl," Leandra said, reaching out to comfort her but stopping her hand for the bruising. She planted an affection on her daughter's cheek instead.

"I'm sorry, mother," Hawke whispered, and took the kiss on her cheek. "You shouldn't of come. You shouldn't have let her."

"Believe me, I tried," Anders replied with a sigh.

"He couldn't keep me from seeing my daughter," Leandra frowned. Bethany stepped to put a hand on her mother's shoulder, and they withdrew.

"Come," Danarius said, expression impassive. "Let us begin."

Anders clenched his fist, a crackle of energy beneath his skin, and the flush of blue about his hand ebbed away. He looked back to Hawke, taking her cheek and urging her eyes to him, "I should have told you I loved you."

"And you can tell me later," Hawke impressed, raising her brow, "When he is dead. Don't frighten me like this, you're supposed to win."

"I know," Anders said, taking her elbow to help her up as Fenris retrieved the rope that linked to her restraints.

"I love you too," Hawke blurted, and in her periphery she could see Hadriana smirk. Anders touched her cheek once more as Fenris led her away.

The arbiter began to speak as Fenris tightened his grip, "That was foolish."

"Story of my life, mm?" Hawke replied, slanting her eyes his way. He was watching Danarius. "Now you'll speak to me?"

"No," Fenris replied, and the metal of his armour bit her bicep.

As the arbiter outlined the terms of the duel, Hawke tilted her head down, speaking just above the sound of her breathing, "If Anders wins, you'll be free. He doesn't keep slaves." When Fenris was silent, she continued, "He wouldn't make you ... do things to people you do not wish. You could choose your life. Unless... you enjoyed this?"

There was a crack of light and a nimbus of telekinetic energy rose around Danarius, drawing their attention back to the stone amphitheatre. There were wards on the walls to protect the building from damage. A less visible shield of energy glowed about Anders as he remained poised, a secondary mist whirling at his feet. The moment Danarius' sphere abated, a crackle lightning snapped from the crescent end of Anders' staff. The magister took it in stride, pulling Anders off his feet with a well of gravity. Recovering, they maintained their distance, considering the other before trading another series of elemental and spiritual attacks.

Fenris coiled his hand into a fist, and his grip grew on Hawke's arm as he watched the combat. Her expression was blank, though her eyes didn't focus on the battle. There was a dagger on Fenris' hip, a companion to the massive sword he had strapped at the ready on his back. Hadriana watched Anders with a peculiar curiosity, while her mother sat with her face in her hands. Bethany was the only one whose eyes were upon her.

Anders shrugged a hex as he took a step back, catching his breath and wiping the blood that trailed from his nose. He moved to manipulate the Fade, and it fashioned in the air, pulling at his will, and the crushing prison crackled up Danarius' limbs. The magister snarled in frustration, convulsing as it wracked him, but it shattered as he overcame it. In his distraction, he was hit square on by a crumbling rock.

Looking to Anders, Hawke saw the ease with which he casted. Much of the work they did pushed his magic to the limit - pushed his will to the limit. His limbs blurred with the twirl of his staff, another crack of energy erupting from between the crescent-shaped tip. When Danarius staggered, her heart leapt.

Panting hard, Danarius brought the dagger down upon his hand, and the air chilled as the bloody miasma sluiced at his feet. One of the elven slaves flanking him cried out, their eyes clouding white as they stumbled. Blood began to run from their eyes, nose and mouth, their limbs and skin withering, and Danarius flushed with their life energy.

A brilliant sapphire aura erupted along Anders skin, fracturing his concentration and enwreathing him in unnatural fire. His voice broke deep in the possession, "Do not touch them!"

Hawke could hear the soft gasp beside her, and only chanced a glance at Hadriana. To see the woman surprised was, well, surprising to say the least. Danarius was only partially fazed, and twirled aside as a fireball erupted where he had stood. Before the magister could recover, a couplet of arcane bolts smacked into him, but he recovered to raise his hands, the arcanum he uttered jolting the other slave to his will.

The elf lurched forward and ran at Anders, and the glowing man scarce had a moment to paralyze the slave before his blood began to boil. The world slowed as the glyph at his feet turned the world to molasses, and crackles of reddened magic entangled his limbs, contrasting sharply with the blue fractures. Danarius was upon him, and Anders spat blood as the magister clocked him with the blunt end of his staff. Deflecting another blow, the wreathing, weakening glyph pulled Anders to the ground, seeping blood from every orifice and staining his robes.

Hawke's expression collapsed as Anders fell, the blue light enwreathing his limbs as Danarius stalked over him. It was more than just his loss, it was the fear of looking away and having him die while she blinked. It was the weight of Fenris' hand on her head and the chain around her neck. The world threatened to slide away but she flattened her tongue in her mouth and forced herself to breath through her nose. Bethany clutched their mother to keep her back.

"Finish this with honour," Anders said, his voice broken between octaves and his eyes blue. The light was fading from them.

Anger rose in Hawke's chest, and she nimbly rose, only to have Fenris jerk her leash as she screamed, "You bastard! Isn't this enough? Just keep me!"

"He is too valuable to let die," Danarius said, and he glanced to the arbiter. "His life is forfeited."

"He is an abomination," the elderly woman replied, crinkling her nose.

"He has lost the duel," Danarius snapped. "His life and possessions are mine to decide. And I will not throw him away."


	5. Kiss it Goodbye

There was no goodbye. There was merely the memory of their eyes across the amphitheatre as Hadriana paralyzed her. Hawke could see the tears in her mother's eyes, and the way Bethany's hardened. It was the memory that would linger, glossing over the shameful walk back to Danarius' estate, or how Fenris hoisted Anders across his shoulders like a sack of grain. Even Anders' expression as he fell in battle seemed to pale compared to her mother's tears.

"I am not in the habit of taking humans as slaves," Danaris said, and Hawke turned her dark eyes up to him. He was not looking at her. "They are wilful and brash. But for you, I'll make an exception."

"I'm flattered," Hawke replied in flatly.

"A fine example of it," Danarius said with defined malaise. He was admiring the brandss along Fenris' chest, as the elf was stripped to his leather britches.

"Where's Anders?" she whispered, blinking at length before staring at the magister.

"From this moment on, he will only be your concern if I tell you it is your concern," Danarius replied, drifting to turn the rod that stuck out of the hot burning fire. "You will spend time in the slave quarters to better learn the behaviour I expect from you."

"Of course, Master," Hawke said with scathing sarcasm.

Fenris smacked her without hesitation, and it drew the edges of Danarius' lips up. The elf pressed her head down and he hissed, "You will afford him the proper respect due, slave."

"So I should kiss his ass like y-" Hawke's words cut off as she was cuffed again, and she suckled her lip in where it split. "Don't damage the goods."

"Do not think your life so valuable to me, Hawke," Danarius replied. "You are leverage. Or do you think Anders will do as I wish if your life weren't in peril?"

Hawke scoffed and said, "Then obviously I'm worth something. What do you think he'll do if you just kill me?"

"Oh, death would be a kindness," Danarius smiled with thin lips and retrieved the poker from the coals. "Restrain her."

As Hawke tried to move, Fenris caught her head, and her mouth was pinned in the crook of his arm as he linked the other through her bound arms. Her eyes went wide at the glowing brand the magister held, and she tried to twist in the elf's grasp. He pulled her head back to bare her breastplate.

Hawke's vision lanced white as the brand seared her skin, burning in the emblem to mark her as his property. She screamed into Fenris' arm, and the elf closed his eyes as Danarius pressed the metal to her skin. He held her as she shuddered and slumped in his arms, breathing roughly and struggling to contain her cries.

The magister watched as Fenris gradually let her go, and Hawke cowed forward to pant and cough at the pain.

"Remember it," Danarius said, hanging the brand beside the fireplace. "Remember what I can do to you without killing you, Hawke. And think of Anders seeing it. Take her downstairs."

* * *

Anders swallowed thickly and touched the collar about his throat. He could feel the enchantments within it, feel how it dulled his union with the Fade and it frightened him in a way that he would not speak of. No doubt the grounds had wards it would respond to as well. Justice felt drugged. He wore a simple robe that reminded him of the day he was put in the Circle.

"A necessary thing," Hadriana said with certain boredom. She clamped his wrists in iron behind his back, and motioned towards where Fenris stood by the door. "Go."

Led into the hall, Anders walked carefully, still nursing internal injuries - though he could tell enough to know that it wasn't life threatening. "Fenris, isn't it?"

Glancing to the blond tresses tied back from the mage's face, Fenris hesitated before quietly saying, "Correct."

"I am sorry I lost," Anders quietly replied. They hesitated as Fenris knocked upon a door. "You deserve better than this. You all do."

Fenris furrowed his brow and looked at Anders as the door opened. Seeing Danarius within, he led Anders before his Master's desk and encouraged him to his knees alongside him. The magister scarce looked up as he flecked his quill across the parchment, dipping it in ink to keep writing. He shook sand across the page before flipping it and continuing on the other side.

Exhaling, Anders closed his eyes and hung his head. Things had not gone as he hoped - though that might be the understatement of the year. Finally, he looked back to the magister and said, "Where is Marian?"

"Alive and fed," Danarius replied without looking up. "In the slave quarters."

Anders pressed his lips into a line and watched the man work.

Finishing his work, Danarius folded and sealed the parchment with wax, lifting it up. An elf came from along the wall and took it, keeping his eyes averted as he went out of the room. "Whether it remains so is all within your grasp, Anders."

"Maker help me if you hurt her anymore," Anders said, shifting to rise, but Fenris caught his shoulder.

Danarius chuckled, and he rose, bridging his hands together as he came around the desk, "In my benevolence, I spared her life and yours. I want to show you Tevinter - and what you can be. I want this to be a beneficial relationship - we can be powerful allies. I have never seen a mage with your abilities - with your control. You've taken in a spirit, haven't you?"

Glancing down, Anders closed his eyes. He could feel the fire of vengeance beneath his skin, simmering with the desire to burst.

"Should I bring her here, perhaps? Hadriana has grown rather fond of her, though I admit, my apprentice has a sadistic streak that few rival," Danarius mused.

"Yes," Anders replied, his voice flat. "A spirit of justice."

"How did you find it? Did it approach you in the Fade?" Danarius asked, crossing his arms and regarding the kneeling mage. "Does it vie for control?"

"It is... complicated," Anders said.

"The greatest things are," Danarius replied, undoing the sash around his waist. He laid it on his desk and retrieved his chair, placing it in front of them and sitting down without affair. He fanned his robes open, revealing his body, nude down to the slim shoes on his feet. He beckoned to Fenris. "Tell me."

Crawling forward, Fenris ran his hands up his Master's thighs, leaning to kiss along the pale skin, nose brushing through the hair on them. The scent of Danarius' loins filled his senses, and his tongue snaked out, running over the sensitive skin along his inner thigh as he reached up over the magister's pelvis.

Glancing up over his eyesbrows, Anders gaped a moment, unable to quite respond.

"Your cooperation or lack thereof will dictate Hawke's treatment," Danarius said with surprising ease. His gaze drifted from Anders to Fenris, and he brushed the white daggers of hair away from the elf's forehead to watch him kiss the side of his member and stroke it in his strong hand. His voice was more airy this time, "What kind of property do you wish her to be?"

A stab of anger twisted in Anders gut, coupled with the unbidden stirring of his loins as his eyes flecked from Danarius to the elf. He could see Fenris' tongue over his inner thigh, "I was a Warden. He inhabited the body of a brother in arms through a mishap in the Fade..."

Fenris knowingly stroked up the shaft, hesitating to lick over his palm before taking the hardened cock in his hand again. He chanced to glance up Danarius' tensing abdomen as the magister spoke to Anders, seeing a subtle wrinkle in the corner of his eye as the elf palmed the sensitive head. He repeated the motion, slipping over the hot skin before situating himself against the edge of the chair.

Plying his thumb up the veiny, soft underside of Danarius' cock, Fenris leant forward and suckled the head in his lips. The precum smeared over his tongue, and he closed his eyes, exhaling out his nose as his lips slid down the dampened skin. His Master's hand tightened in his hair, and there was a hitch in his breath as he addressed Anders again, questioning him further on the spirit.

Anders struggled to respond, aware of his own distraction and the growing pulse of his loins. He could hear his own words, he could hear the mocking edge to the magister's voice - that he was able to respond at all was proof of his control as a mage. Danarius wanted him to watch, he wanted his eyes upon those lips, upon the brilliant tattoos on the elf's sculpted body. Wanted him to forget the welts upon Marian's skin, and just think of this.

When Danarius tugged at Fenris hair and commanded he shift, it revealed the act to Anders even more. Fenris' toyed with the taut sack as he slid down, and his eyes briefly opened, focusing upon Anders. The intensity of the gaze made the mage's cock twitch.

"This is what it means to be a mage in Tevinter," Danarius breathily said, tracing his thumb up Fenris' ear and prompting the elf to sink deep on his cock. He almost groaned, whispering his approval to his pet as lips continued to drag along the engorged member. "We are meant to rule. We are given the gifts and the power. It is only rational that we lead, that the world might be a better place. When our Maker has abandoned us - it is mages who must be take the rein."

Anders pressed his lips together to prevent any reply, the pulse in his loins rising along his body and blossoming on his cheeks. Fenris settled his hand below his lips, and Danarius groaned as the elf began to stroke with each in unison. The magister's eyes half closed and he tightened his grip on the white hair, guiding the speed of his bobs.

"What do you want?" Anders said, his voice cracking and prompting him to clear his throat.

"Do not hold back." A feline smile graced Danarius' lips as he opened his eyes half-lidded to Anders, "Do as I command. And do not question me."

"And you won't harm her?"

"It is certainly worth hoping for," the magister replied, his chin dropping down as Fenris sunk along his shaft, his free hand dipping to finally wiggle a finger into the tight ring of his backside. Danarius panted out, hips rising into the knowing suckles, and he held the elf upon him, tongue lapping against his hardness as the tension in him released. His mouth fell open with the subtle sigh, and he rolled his hips as he panted, "Keep it in your mouth."

Fenris let go of his Master's cock as he felt the gush of bitter fluid, and spread his fingers on Danarius' stomach to steady himself. The fluid hung hot on his tongue, and he suckled up off the sensitive, red head, to glance up with expectant eyes.

"Kiss him."

"I-" Anders cut his words off as the elf turned to him, and blushed at the apples as he leaned back into his bound hands. Fenris clasped his neck, and their lips meshed, the fluid shared as their tongues entwined. Closing his eyes, Anders groaned despite himself, exhaling out his nose as his manhood throbbed harder against his thigh.

"Good," Danarius said, watching them with a more even gaze as he flapped his robes closed. He was on his feet with surprising ease, and shifted the chair back behind his desk.

Fenris broke the kiss, watching Anders as he slowly opened his eyes and exhaled. The mage's eyes were glossy. Another man's seed on his tongue, and the scent of lyrium heady against him.

"You will share a bed with Fenris, here," Danarius motioned into the ancillary chamber. "I cannot trust you on your own.


	6. Strange Bedfellows

Anders stared at the wall, having difficulty finding sleep despite his exhaustion. The collar was a weight around his neck – in many regards, it reminded him of a Qunari mage he had seen once. Captured in the war, his karataam had been paraded into the square at the forum. The handlers were executed one by one, much to the excitement of the citizens gathered. When the saarebas was left, his restraints and artefacts were removed, and the stitching on his lips was cut and healed. He refused to speak – if he even spoke the language – and killed himself.

A collar that subdued him. Another tower to keep him. What would the Hero think of him now? Such a silly thought to encounter. Ferelden was a lifetime away.

The bed sunk behind him, and Anders shuffled to glance over his shoulder. It had been an awkward few nights lying in the small bed with the elf. Thankfully his days were long, and every other night he had been asleep before Fenris had joined him. They had scarce exchanged a word since their… kiss. Danarius had yet to return to the bedchamber.

"You're awake, then?" Fenris said under his breath. He bristled some, hesitating before he stood again to remove his tights.

Anders cleared his throat, trying not to look. He'd been allowed to keep his smalls, and though Fenris had slept in the buff, somehow seeing him strip was worse than merely waking up next to a naked man. "I am."

"Do you mind if I sleep there?" Fenris asked, motioning along the wall.

"No, not at all – sorry," Anders hurriedly said, keeping the sheets around his waist as he sat up. The elf glanced at him, his expression difficult to read in the low light, before crawling across, and lying down to face the wall. He pulled the sheet up to his waist, wrapping an arm underneath his head for a pillow. Steadying a hand on the edge of the bed, Anders laid back down, with one of his arms half-dangled off the bed to allow a modicum of space between them.

Staring at the ceiling, Anders' eyes grew heavy, and though he had less space, feeling weight in the bed beside him was a comfort – Marian or not.

It was an unknown amount of time later when Anders woke in a half-haze, pressing his lips to skin and breathing in as he ran his hand over an abdomen-that-was-far-too-chiselled. Tensing, he snapped his hand back, and shifting in the bed, nearly fell onto the floor. His barefoot smacked the tile, and he glanced to where Danarius slept – thank Andraste's sweet tits, the bed was still empty.

"I – I am so sorry," Anders stammered, hips still on the bed. He ran a hand up through his stubble and across his face, waking more. "That was unfair."

"It's alright," Fenris replied, his throat more gravelly in sleep. What little light there was made his tattoos stand out almost as much as his hair.

Anders exhaled and closed his eyes, wiping over his mouth, "It isn't. I… I am just used to…"

"To sleeping with her?" Fenris answered for him. "The thief?"

"Yes," Anders said, putting his hands over his lap to conceal the hard-on poking under the sheet. Maker, the elf couldn't even see. Could he? And it wasn't as though he hadn't seen that sort of thing already – already pleasured him at Danarius' whims.

"It doesn't bother you? Who she is?"

"Not really," Anders said, lying on his back finally. Fenris shifted, and their legs brushed together until he had situated himself with his back against the wall. "She does a lot of things for the right reasons. Even if they aren't always the brightest."

"Hm," Fenris said, crossing his arms despite what little space there was.

"I think this is the most you've said to me this whole time."

Fenris' eyes dropped along Anders chest. The mage wasn't looking in any particular direction, but it was clear he was distracted. There was a soft down of hair – light curls that were unlike the greying hair on Danarius. He had more muscles than the magister – what use would a mage have for muscle?

"It is not often my place to speak. It is easier to be silent," Fenris quietly said. "Safer."

Anders frowned, "Have you always been a slave?"

"I…" Fenris leant more against the cool of the wall, blinking lengthily. "I don't remember."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that, mage," Fenris said, bristling and shifting again. The anger flared and he swallowed it. His eyes dropped to the sheets at the – it was out of line. "I apologize."

"You don't have to," Anders replied in a continued whisper. "I didn't mean to pry."

They laid in silence for a while, and Fenris watched Anders close his eyes. Looking down the mage's body, he saw the arousal there weaken away beneath the sheets. His pulse was hard as he finally whispered, "I only remember Master Danarius and the markings. The pain of them."

"You're very unique – and very strong," Anders said, sleepily opening his eye to look at him. "Lyrium poisons its share of people, human, elf, or otherwise. Physically… it destroys the minds of many."

"And it didn't destroy mine?" Fenris asked, averting his eyes down.

"Far from it," Anders said. "Well, at least as far as I've seen. I may yet be wrong."

Fenris chuckled once, staring at formless shadows.

Anders relaxed some, and their arms touched between the sheets. There was fatigue in his eyes, and bruising around his wrists where he'd been bound. Any mirth bled from his features. "Is she alright? Hawke, I mean."

Expression almost hardening again, Fenris relaxed too, "She is disobedient and punished accordingly."

Bitterly smirking, Anders said, "Not surprising. She has to be the most stubborn woman I know."

"She should not question her place," Fenris shook his head, shoulders scrunching up. "Hadriana… is not kind."

"No," Anders expression blanked. "She isn't."

"I… do not think Danarius will kill her," Fenris softly said.

"Thanks," Anders emptily replied. "I suppose I should take more comfort in that. Yay, she's not dead."

Fenris settled, still watching the silhouette of Anders' features. He touched the mages arm, "She would be dead if you had not acted."

Anders closed his eyes and more lightly said, "Yes, well she might not be in this at all if it weren't for me either." He sighed softly, and Fenris moved beside him.

"It is rare to… be alone like this," the elf quietly said. "With someone other than Master."

"Maybe that's comforting in a way," Anders absently said, his attention drifting to where Fenris' hand had shifted down his side. He drew a breath to try and distract himself. "Though perhaps you'd rather be alone."

"I don't know," Fenris said, feeling the muscles tense beneath his hand. Though it was at his Master's bidding, some part sparked in his stomach, an excitement to be allowed the freedom to touch.

Anders swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his loins stir again to strain in his small clothes as Fenris' slender hand crept over his abdomen. He tensed beneath the touch, and when the slave kissed his shoulder his voice cracked, "This is nothing you have to do, Fenris."

"And if I wish to?" Fenris asked under his breath. He sat up and trailed his hand down to Anders' thigh, leaning closer to the man.

"I," Anders opened his eyes, exhaling out at the teasing caress over his skin. Maker forgive him, if only Marian were there. He tried to find some strength in his voice, "That's a different story then."

Fenris found himself grinning as Anders turned, and he dug his fingers into the mage's thigh as their lips silently met. They kissed more earnestly this time, their tongues freely meeting, and it drew a groan from Anders that prompted the elf to graze his knuckles over his pent crotch. Each kiss drew a little longer, a foray of exploration and teasing that deepened their breath, and Fenris' own arousal pressed against Anders' hip.

Groaning, Anders broke the kiss, breathing against the elf's lips before he said, "You smell like lyrium. Did you know that?"

"So I've been told," Fenris replied, and he cringed a bit as Anders kissed his chin. A strained breath escaped.

"Sorry," Anders breathed, looking to Fenris' eyes.

"No," Averting his gaze, Fenris tempered the discomfort of the touch, well aware of how the pain made his member throb. He ran his hand over Anders' crotch, pressing the restrained hardness, "Please…"

Anders sighed and dipped his head into Fenris' neck, opening his mouth on the raised markings there to suckle the skin. He could feel the draw of the Fade in his skin, a near tingle on his tongue, and it prompted the mage to run his hand down Fenris' chiselled abs. The elf mirrored his touch, and soon each petted the other's throbbing need with scant teasing touches, prompting Anders to groan.

Closing his eyes, Fenris laid his head back on the bed, and their movement creaked the small frame. He subdued his breath, whispering, "We mu… we must be quiet, lest Master hear us."

"I'm good at quiet," Running the back of his hand up Fenris' shaft, Anders nipped into his neck, finally gripping round the hardness with a slow stroke. The elf groaned, and there was a flare of light over his tattoos that only magnified the feel of the lyrium in his mouth. Fenris answered, pushing down Anders' smalls to free his member and grope it in reply. The power of his mana flared at the small bit of lyrium, and Anders lifted his head back to Fenris' lips, kissing him with a rough need.

Their kisses met with a play for control, tongues plying together, sliding and muffling groans as they stroked each other in time. Anders finally turned his cheek, breathing near silently as he put his cheek over Fenris' lips. Eyes half-lidded in the dark, he let his tongue find his slender elven ear, teasing it as fingers tightened, slipping in precum and gliding skin over hard, hot want.

Fenris bit his lips closed, silencing himself and closing his eyes. He could think of a time in the city with Danarius, when his Master had beckoned him into an alley. He had just slain a trio of assassins trying to end the magister's life, and pleased with the outcome, Danarius paid for a whore on his knees. It was rare he found pleasure anywhere, let alone by someone else, and given the reign to enjoy without thought of service.

Anders' lips fell off Fenris' ear, delving into his neck again to suckle and nip at the lyrium markings. It brought another flush of subtle blue light, and the elf jerked his hips into the hand that pleasured him. It set Anders' pulse faster, and he bit more earnestly into the man's neck. Fenris' lips cracked, and he groaned as his sac tightened and succumb to pleasure, spilling into Anders' jerking hand.

The sudden heat and soft gasps in his hair pushed Anders into his own frenzy, and trying to quiet his pants, Fenris jerked him quick and hard into his stomach, his own spilt seed making the motion slick and slipper. Anders closed his eyes, suckling on the lyrium tattoos as his release flooded him, ass tensing and hips urging against Fenris to spurt in release.

Heads and arms intwined, they lay there in the dark, struggling with soft gulps and pursed lips to quiet themselves. Anders tenderly kissed beneath Fenris ear, lips trailing down his shoulder as the last ebbs of liberation drained away. At the uncommon affection, Fenris smeared his hand up his stomach, before wrapping the arm around Anders' neck to pull him in for a kiss.

"Thank you," Anders breathily whispered as they laid pressed together, forehead-to-forehead. Fenris moved, and he tried to stop him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Fenris said with a sliver of a grin. He tugged his jerkin to wipe down Anders' stomach and clean his hand.

"You don't have to do that," Anders whispered.

Fenris tossed the clothing over the head of the bed, before settling in the arm Anders offered him. He exhaled out, eyes averted down as the mage caressed him almost tenderly. Fenris closed his eyes as Anders pressed his lips to his forehead, and he softly whispered, "I wanted to."


	7. Bite the Bit

She had been allowed no privacy in the days since the duel had been lost. Housed in the slave quarters, Hawke found herself moving aimlessly, isolated from the details and consequences. The elves moved with purpose, and didn't glance when she used to bucket to relieve herself. It was almost as though she didn't exist.

Better than pissing myself on the side of the street, Hawke thought.

One of the older elves instructed her in the ways of being a slave, and disciplined her rightly when she invariably disobeyed. She slept with them at night, and worked in the house with them during the day. Her hands were swollen from the switch, but somehow it seemed a kindness compared to what she had experienced prior to the fight.

She had yet to see Anders - but she knew he lived from the whispers in the night. Hawke was ushered from the dining room prior to the mages entering to eat, and she was whipped when she lifted her eyes to look at Fenris. She swore when she was hit, spitting words at the elf who did so. When she turned on him to rip the switch away, she made it as far as the stairs before running into Hadriana. Gagged and bound, she was left on the floor as the other slaves went about their day, unable to find comfort and slowly drooling herself dry from the rope that bit her mouth.

The second time it happened, Hawke was stripped of her tunic and tied with twine that itched and bit into her skin. The room they left her in this time had no windows, buried beneath the mansion, and she lost count of the time in the dark. When the door finally opened, the magelight blinded her, and her legs had been prickly for so long she could only stumble as the elves brought her before Hadriana.

"Get up," the woman plainly said.

Sucking air around her gag, Hawke kept her eyes down as she shifted on her knees, struggling to maintain balance and get up without the aide of her arms. She was turned towards the stairs.

"Your insolence goes too far," Hadriana said at her back. "Do you think it will be tolerated? Your petty fits and tantrums?"

Hawke huffed against her gag, eyes straining in the lights of the house proper. There were scruffs and bruises down her body, though thankfully she had avoided soiling herself completely. The same could not be said for basement room.

"I have missed your cries, and it seems our master's patience runs thin," the mage purred, chuckling when Hawke shook her head. "He wishes to see you himself."

Led into a wide room, Hawke could see the basin she had helped fill for baths before - an elf she knew was pouring water in. Orana. The girl didn't look up as she worked, hurrying to the side of the room at Hadriana's command.

"You smell like a gutter rat," Hadriana admonished, and Hawke stumbled forward as she was pushed. "Into the water."

Hawke hesitated as she looked at the edge of the metal basin, and lifted a leg to dip it into the water. It was cold. The exhalation of her hesitation escaped around the gag, and she looked to where Hadriana had stripped her robe.

"In," the mage replied, advancing to grab Hawke by her bonds and force her into the cold water.

Hawke groaned as it splashed around her, and she sunk to a knee, shivering as it chilled her already nude body. Hadriana touched the water, and with a soft word it warmed, before she reached to pull the gag from Hawke's mouth.

"Have you learned enough yet in your lessons?" Hadriana said, sitting on the edge of the heavy copper tub.

Flexing her mouth to finally move her jaw, Hawke licked the raw edges where the rope had bit before she quietly said, "Yes, mistress."

"Then be glad for the privilege I give you," Hadriana smiled sweetly, before more coolly saying. "Bathe me."

Hawke hesitated only briefly, shifting her shoulders, "I.. I am bound, mistress." She emphasized the last word almost unconsciously.

"You have a mouth," Hadriana laughed, as though Hawke were a child unable to identify the sky.

Hawke's cheeks coloured lightly as she looked down the woman's slender calf. Hadriana had taken her from the slave quarters a few times, and the methods she employed to mould Hawke to her will rarely gave her much choice. It left her paranoid. The woman hadn't merely told her to do something since... since she had lost her freedom. That was the truth of it, wasn't it? When was the blade going to bite her skin – when would the phantom rise in her blood to make her the puppet? She glanced about, and saw a washcloth over the edge of the tub.

Hadriana leant back in the end of the tub, her legs swishing the water as she parted her knees wide. When Hawke leant to snag the washcloth in her mouth, she nodded and said, "Good girl."

Blushing more darkly, Hawke clenched her teeth and bowed her head to wet the cloth, before leaning in to Hadriana's legs and dragging herself back and forth to scrub with the cloth. The mage's hand came to rest atop her head, keeping her balance with the other. She held Hawke's hair out of her face when she folded down on herself to wet the cloth again.

It was a pointless endeavour, and Hawke kept her eyes nearly closed as she smudged the cloth over the other woman's skin. It did very little. She could feel Hadriana's eyes upon her, and smell the scent of her sex from the little nest of hair between her legs.

Hadriana's skin was unmarred by battle, smooth and giving, and easily reddening from the rough texture of the cloth. Hawke could feel her pulse rise despite herself – the warm water concealed the throb in her loins, for this woman who controlled her. Was it a lingering effect? Was it her own thoughts? Though man or woman had never really mattered much to Hawke, this woman had treated her worse than any other in her life.

Hawke moved to the other leg, and Hadriana caught her dark hair, twisting her to look up. Hawke's eyes skirted away, and she could see the mage's smile.

"See, sweetness, you are learning," Hadriana said, before kissing Hawke's cheek tenderly. She let go of Hawke's hair with a push, and the rogue was unable to stop herself from splooshing with her arms bound. "Clean her."

Hawke glubbed and clamped her mouth shut as she sunk in the tub. She was beginning to think she might die after all, when Orana pulled her back up to her knees (with some difficulty, albeit) and she choked a breath.

"It's alright," the girl said. "Mistress is gone. I'll clean you, I won't hurt you."

Shaking the hair from her eyes, Hawke looked to the elf and softly said, "Thank you."

Orana was only as gentle as needed, using the washcloth to scrub dirt from Hawke's face and arms as she spoke in a whisper, "Papa doesn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," Hawke whispered, hanging her head down. One of the elves training her. "He's only doing as he's told."

Orana worked silently, and the water sullied around Hawke. Finally the elf steadied her bound arms and helped her up and out of the bath. Drying her off, she sat Hawke on a stool and brushed her short, black hair.

"I always like the way human hair feels," Orana quietly said to Hawke.

Smiling only weakly, Hawke murmured, "It's yours any time."

Running her fingers into the daggers of dark hair once more, Orana put the brush away and scurried out of the way as Hadriana returned. A simple gold clasp held the gauzy robe about her frame, and it revealed the length of her curvy thighs as she walked to place a hand on Hawke's head. "Come."

An elf in the hall pressed out of their way, clutching the linens in her grasp and bowing her head as Hadriana led Hawke to the master bedroom. She hesitated and brushed a bit of hair from Hawke's face before opening the door and directing Hawke in.

The sound of sighs and skin cloying together filled her senses, and Hawke blushed brightly as Fenris turned his head on the desk, mouth open in a gasp of pleasure. The other bodies meshed together numbed through her, and she crumpled to her knees.

His hand upon the elf's back, Anders rolled his head back as Danarius took him from behind, using the force to urge both their hips against the bent Fenris. How could she look away from it, seeing that face she knew so well, when her hands, when her mouth had been on his body, when he had cried her name.

She had tried to lock herself away. To leave her body to their commands and do as they asked – she had paid for resisting. It was a struggle to quell her thoughts, and an even larger one to hush her tongue. But seeing him… the man who nearly killed him. Who branded her. The elf commanded to use her.

Anders eyes chanced to lift as Hadriana cleared her throat, and the smack of his hips against Fenris' ass staggered slower. Hawke's pulse was every bit in her senses, thudding in her eyes, in her throat, and the world trembled with the beat. It was burning in her as Danarius' hands snaked around Anders' chin and chest, holding him to roughly bite his neck and drive his buried member home with a crackle of magical energy.

Scarce able to protest, Anders cried out in pleasure, letting himself be manipulated, letting his hips move at their will to pump into Fenris' ass and fill him, slicking the passage with his seed. Hawke's face dropped down, her breath huffing oddly as she listened to the men groan, the sound of their ecstasy shivering in her. Hadriana's hand was on her neck, a slender caress that gave her goosebumps.

"Everyone else is enjoying their lot," the mage whispered, squatting down to kiss Hawke's ear. "So why must you be so difficult?"

* * *

Hawke repeated the motion, punching the stuffed dummy in the yard. The sun was setting, and it was one of the few times she had been left alone since her enslavement. She had spent a half hour trying to pick the manacle about her ankle, but only succeeded in burning her hand (damned thing was enchanted, how the fuck) and wearing the skin around it raw from the wooden dagger.

Maybe it didn't matter that Danarius had wanted her to practise – had wanted her to keep her skills honed. It was satisfying none the less to be in the air beating the crap out of a practise post. Coupled with the knowledge that Hadriana wasn't lurking to drag her off to be whipped or forced into some sexual act, Hawke almost felt normal for a time.

It felt good to bruise her knuckles because of something she did, to sweat because of her choice. It reawoke something she had been forcing down, cramming deep to keep from getting herself beaten more than she already did.

Now if she just imagined it was Hadriana's face.

Hawke tensed and did a round house to clock the post, flowing through a variety of strokes, to progressively cry out in aggravation and getting swept up in the moment, smashed her fist right into the wood. The pain was blinding, and she bounced back, promptly tripping on the manacle that kept her from running.

"Nug-humping bitch of a hurlock!" Hawke writhed in the dirt, clutching her bloodied hand. She looked at the sky, blinking rapidly as she lay there, when a familiar sensation enveloped her hand. Knowing healing magic all too well, she scrambled to her knees, tucking her chin down.

"Don't... please don't," Anders said as he stepped into courtyard. There were circles under his eyes, and he weakly moved to help her to her feet.

"No?" Hawke simply said, before her expression contorted and she pushed him away. Anders cringed as she hit his chest and arms. "Come to heal me so I'm in shape for our Master? Or have you come to beat me yourself."

Anders looked down, dropping his hands and exhaling, "No. They're at the harvest gala."

Hawke scarce looked at him as she stooped to pick up her wooden daggers, saying under her breath, "Your new best friend didn't want you there?"

"No," Anders replied. "Danarius took Fenris for protection."

"Well poor you," Hawke said, and she punched the post before turning on him. "I should just stab you right now, blunt and painful. What then, Anders? No use for me when I've killed his new pet."

"I'm sorry, "Anders said, closing his eyes and letting her shake him.

"You just stand there," Hawke's voice cracked and her throat tightened. Her knuckles whitened and she gripped his robes, dropping her face. "How could you let this happen? How could you do that to me? I don't even know how long I've been here, Anders!"

"Almost a month," he whispered, tentatively putting his hands on her arms.

"Maker's balls," Hawke rasped, and she shuddered, trembling and clutching his robes as her legs weakened. She screwed her eyes tight, letting her head drop to hide the welling tears, "How could you Anders?"

"I learned long ago to wait for opportunities," Anders said, his voice gravelly.

"You really waited for Danarius like that," Hawke said, still clinging to him. "Or Fenris? You two look great together."

"It's not black and white, Marian," Anders hissed, shaking his head. "I couldn't... I wanted to see you. When .. when I do what he wants, I just think maybe it'll mean you'll have a normal day. Maybe he won't let Hadriana have you. Maybe he'll let me see you. I'm so sorry, Marian."

"Flames," Hawke shuddered and crumpled into his arms, a crackling whine breaking into a muffled sob against him. "I don't care. I don't care, just hold me and make me forget this place. Make me forget what I did."

Anders crushed her in his arms, burying his face in her hair, "No. No, it was never you."

"If I'd just done my damned job," Hawke said against his chest. "If I'd never been caught, none of this would have ever happened. Varric must be laughing his ass off, Maker knows he'd never let me hear the end of it."

"I shouldn't have gotten you involved. It was my weight to bear," Anders whispered, closing his eyes tight as he listened to her breath shudder.

"I see you fucking other men, and what do I do, end up blubbering in your arms," Hawke whispered, trembling and lifting her face and wiping her cheeks. "Other circumstances, it might have been the sexiest thing in the world. Just... please tell me not Hadriana."

"No," Anders said, almost chuckling as he caressed her hair. "She can be cruel, but Danarius will not... leave me to her the way he allows with you."

"Lucky me," Hawke said with a sniff.

They stood there for a while, and Anders adjusted his arms to keep Hawke fitted against his body, caressing her hair with his eyes closed. If he stood there, it almost seemed like life could be normal again. If only for a minute.


	8. Wet Your Whistle

Anders sat in the library, transcribing by lamplight. His hand ached, but it was some of work Danarius gave him that he looked forward to. More than once he had been forced to do tasks quite similar in the Tower, and it had made his handwriting neat and quick. It let him find other tomes more to his liking – searching for something that may help them escape. It gave him time alone to think.

Hearing uneven footsteps in the hall, Anders closed the book in his grasp, and rose to slip it back amidst the cases. He was almost back to his chair when Hadriana appeared in the doorway. He sat down and smoothed his inky fingers up the spine of the book to find his place. Soon, the woman's fingers were in his hair, and his quill froze.

"Always so diligent," she whispered, leaning against his back and trailing her hands down his neck and shoulders. "It is no wonder our master is so fond of you."

Anders neatly laid the quill down. He could smell liquor on her breath – and something else. A flash of memory from helping a beggar in the streets: madcap, a deathroot and mushroom concoction. Licking his lips, he quietly said, "Is there something you wish, mistress?"

"You could say that," she replied, and her fingers were on his neck again. "Our master is busy with his frisky wolf, and does not wish you there."

Anders swallowed the lump in his throat, keeping his eyes down, "Oh?"

"Indeed," Hadriana said, and she inhaled, leaning her breasts against his back as she sighed. "So it seems I may be allowed your company. Come…"

Laying a ribbon to mark his page, Anders snuffed the lamps and followed to where she waited by the door. Crystals in the hall lit their way – it was later than he had thought. Hadriana opened the door to her bedchamber, and motioned for Anders to go in.

The room was well lit with warm candlelight, and a flowery musk lingered in the air. At his entrance, Hawke sunk to her knees without a thought, and it was only when she saw him that her eyes widened. Her wrists were bound together in front of her, and a gag strapped her mouth open, her lips glistening with saliva. Otherwise, she was completely naked.

Anders swallowed dryly as Hadriana put her hands on his back, urging him deeper into her room. She began to undo his robes, when he caught her hands, shaking his head when her lips touched his cheek, "No…no, I cannot."

The sweetness in Hadriana's features hardened, and she slapped him hard enough to leave a reddened glow on his cheek, "There is no question of your compliance. Or would you prefer I fetch Danarius from his playtime with Fenris, so you might tell him yourself you have denied your mistress. Now remove your clothing."

Anders cheeks coloured as he turned his head and gathered his robes to pull them overhead. Twisting them, he tossed the robes aside as Hadriana's hands moved over him. When he looked at her, Hawke's brow drew together, and her arms fell limply onto her knees.

"Yes, she'll stay," Hadriana sweetly said, before running her fingers over his stubbly cheeks and pulling him down into her lips. Anders closed his eyes and weakly put his hands on the woman's waist, as their lips parted and tongues meshed. Beyond them, he could hear Hawke's shuddered breath.

Hadriana smiled into Anders' lips, kissing more roughly as she ran a hand down over his hips, grasping his member without hesitation. His breath hitched in her mouth, and his hand plied her waist, prompting her to chuckle and stroke his half-mast until he was hard.

"So well trained," Hadriana purred, turning and pushing him towards the bed with a hand on his back. Dilated eyes soaked him in, following the bruises along his thighs – recognizing what her master favoured. She smacked his ass and said, "Lay back, I'll make this easy."

Anders expression faltered and he looked to Hawke again, who had kept her chin up. The restrained rogue looked from him to her mistress over his shoulder, huffing out a breath again. Her skin was flushed, and she sat with her knees apart. When he sat on the bed, Hadriana pushed him back and climbed aboard, having discarded her own robes. Kissing him quick, the soft curves of her body pressed against him, and his treasonous pulse leapt in his throat.

"Isn't this what you wish to see, little bird?" Hadriana asked as she ground her hips with Anders. He scrunched his eyes closed and choked on his breath, the wetness of her loins and netherlips catching on his hard shaft. "Not beaten, not hurt, but groaning with the pleasure of me. That I care for you so much as to fuck him."

Hawke made a sound into her gag, her chin falling down, and there was the suck of air as she tried to keep from drooling, her mouth unable to close.

"Don't dare look away," Hadriana said, a razor's edge in her words. Her voice grew more airy, her skin flushed with arousal. "You'd hate to see what happens if you look away. Or do you think it's you I'll hurt if I don't get what I want?"

Lifting her eyes once more, Hawke watched Hadriana catch Ander's arm, his fingers in a fist, and the mage pinned him down. Her mistress leant and pressed her breasts into his face, the soft scrape of stubble on the soft skin.

"Come now, Anders," Hadriana whispered, and it was a moment before his mouth opened, suckling her nipple in and teasing it hard. Closing her eyes, she sighed and ground her hips again, feeling his arousal slide against her wet slit.

Hadriana sat up, meeting eyes with Hawke once more as she reached between her thighs, and grasping Ander's cock, guided it in those lips. Her eyes began to close, and she rolled her hips to let the weight of her body sink, filled and linked. Her breath shuddered out, matching the tortured exhale from Anders, and she planted her hands on his chest, looking at Hawke again as she began to fuck him.

Breathing heavily, Hawke coiled her hands into fists, watching Hadriana take Anders' hand and guide it up her body. She couldn't hide any sound, the ragged edge in her breath clear around the gag. Thought somehow didn't factor into the way she began to buzz when Anders had pulled off his robe, when his cock had hardened in Hadriana's hand.

Hawke blinked lengthily, shivering at the sound of their union, the quiet pluck of skin and hitching breaths. A harsh slap opened her eyes again, and Anders groaned, Hadriana looking at her.

"Next time it will be much worse," Hadriana said, digging her nails into Anders peck and drawing a soft whimper from him as she rode him. "Don't you wish to see this, pet?"

Eyes up to them, Hawke shivered, her shoulders scrunching as she forced herself to nod. Was she even forcing? She exhaled roughly, watching Hadriana drop her hand to Anders shoulder, gripping him to angle her hips and grind on his cock, drawing a deep groan.

"Of course you do," Hadriana said, flushed and still hazy from the drink. She looked down at Anders and kissed him, fingers knotting in his hair as she jerked her hips, pulling him deep. She looked up again to Hawke, "You want our pleasure."

Hawke exhaled roughly, the blush on her cheeks darkening as Hadriana sat up again. The mage dropped her hand between her thighs, planting her free hand on Anders' thigh as she touched over her clit and sighed out. Anders hands snaked over her knees, holding her as their hips hit, the tension in him grating tighter.

"Perhaps we need her to prove her want," Hadriana said, slowing as she looked down at Anders. He jerked when she tweaked his nipple, and she grinned more kindly than usual.

"If it is what you wish," Anders said in a breath, and he groaned as she easily slipped off him, the air hitting his damp loins.

"I see why Danarius adores you so," Hadriana said as she walked to Hawke and motioned. "Get up."

Manoeuvring with experience, Hawke balanced herself and rose without the aide of her hands. She choked on a gasp as Hadriana thrust her hand between her thighs, slipping in the wetness there.

"And I thought the flush said it all, but this," Hadriana said, kissing Hawke's cheek in reward. "So wet and wanting from watching us fuck."

Hawke groaned, the sound a soft whine against her gag, and her knees weakened as Hadriana slipped her middle finger in.

"Hot and slick," Hadriana said, putting her lips by Hawke's ear. "Loving watching your mistress fuck a man. Just wishing it were his cock here. Wishing it were you riding. Wishing for anything."

Exhaling against her gag, Hawke swayed into Hadriana as the woman wiggled the finger, sending a zing through her at the attention. She nodded despite herself, closing her eyes and biting the gag, only to have Hadriana step away.

"Then come show us," Hadriana said, taking Hawke's upper arm. Anders sat up at her prompting, and she pushed Hawke back against the bed, urging her to sit up against the headboard. Licking her lips, she bent to kiss the fount of Hawke's sex, pushing her legs wide apart, and the bound rogue groaned. "So eager…"

Anders swallowed thickly, watching as Hadriana dipped again to kiss the damp curls that guarded Hawke's sex. He tensed his hand into a light fist.

"Show us," Hadriana said, sitting back and pinning one of Hawke's thighs wide apart. The mage's bright blue eyes turned up, "Show me how much you wish it were you."

Hawke exhaled deeply, eyes flickering a moment from Anders back to Hadriana as she adjusted her bound wrists. She ran her fingers down over her sex, her pulse skipping faster at the anticipation, before caressing over her swollen, wet lips.

"Perfect. Eyes on me, sweetness," Hadriana purred, dilated eyes blinking lethargically with intoxication. She reached a hand back, caressing over her ass as she said to Anders, "Now fuck me."

Hawke watched as Anders crawled on the bed behind Hadriana, blushing more darkly as she toyed over her clit. His eyes were on her, caught between his own hard arousal, her self-pleasuring hands, and her face. Hadriana's nails dug into her thigh, and Hawke's eyes snapped back down.

Dragging his fingers over Hadriana's ass, Anders gripped his damp cock and shoved it back into her with little hesitation. He watched Hawke's fingers delve into the wet folds of her sex in the same moment, and huffed out a deep breath, gripping the woman's hips to jar into a rough pace that made Hadriana moan. He could see Hawke over the woman's shoulder, two fingers deep while she swirled over her clit with her other hand, her bonds almost preventing her from doing it. He could hear her sighs and see the way her body rolled and moved, knowing it so well – knowing the ways she pleasured herself for him so intimately.

Hadriana's eyes swam, and she leant forward to lick alongside Hawke's fingers as they wiggled, and she groaned, "Your scent little bird, what it does to me. Wanting this so badly. Don't you?"

Expression twisted by the pleasure, Hawke opened her eyes to see Anders once more and she moaned against her gag. It prompted him to reached up Hadriana's back, watching as he pounded into her wet slit. The air was filled with the ragged edge of their breaths, and the bed rocked beneath him, shaking Hawke's pert breasts.

"You have been good, perhaps you deserve it," Hadriana hushed against Hawke's crotch, senses consumed with the scent of her musk. She nudged Hawke's hand off her clit, and kissed it. When she suckled upon it, Hawke moved her fingers and arched into the woman, her mistress' tongue smothering the sensitive nub and urging her into that frenzied place of tense desire.

Lapping the little pea, Hadriana bobbed with the force of Ander's thrusts, panting as she licked her lips and pressed her nose into the scent to gasp, "Yes, pet… let me taste you… agh yes!" She gripped Hawke's thigh, closing her mouth on her clit to suck and swirl her tongue as Anders gasped hard.

The world devolved into a blissful wash as Hawke's moan choked on the gag, her fingers caught in the tense of her muscles, undulating to press into Hadriana's mouth. The shiver of oblivion soothed the aches in her, and she forced her eyes open to watch Ander's head drop, moving with a sudden jerk that forced Hadriana's moaning lips into her crotch, the woman lapping at the thick dampness of her orgasm. His hands were on Hadriana's back, and his expression was lost to the same, a sweet abandon in his features that Hawke had dearly missed.

Hawke shook her head, shuddering as Hadriana still toyed with her clit and pulled her fingers out to replace them with her own. A spark of energy was in her touch, and it jolted Hawke to writhe even more, trembling with the force of the next wave. Hadriana lifted her face with dilated eyes, fingering Hawke roughly and pinning her with the other, forcing it with the magical touch. She lapped her lips like a feline finished its milk.


	9. Thicker than Water

Hadriana hissed and drew the leather tight around Hawke's throat, prompting the bound woman to gasp and strain. Smiling, the mage whispered by her ear, "You keep fighting, but you love what I do, little bird. Your body begs me, even as your lips resist. But it will all succumb, and I will be your sun."

Closing her eyes, Hawke's mouth opened wide, head tilting back as the mage kept the leather belt constricting her breath. Rising onto the tips of her toes, she pulled at the ropes securing her arms above her head to the tall bedpost. Her pulse rose in her ears, thrumming in her skin and loins, and in the moment the leather was loosed, she gasped in roughly, panting and writhing as Hadriana wrapped her hand around Hawke's waist.

With a soft word, Hadriana's fingers became ice, and she trailed them back over the sculpted curve of Hawke's ass. Biting the muscle of her shoulder, the mage slid her fingers into her sex and ass at once, causing Hawke to softly cry out.

"Shhh," Hadrian whispered, pulling the leather around her throat tight again. Hawke began to shiver as her whimper cut away, the chill intensifying, buried there in her core. Marking her with another bite, Hadriana wiggled her fingers, and the bound woman tried to twist, unable to escape as the mage pinned her against the post.

Leaving the belt cinching Hakwe's throat, Hadriana fashioned a grease on her fingertips with a simple command, before caressing it on the wooden phallus strapped to her thighs. She kissed Hawke's ear, licking down her neck and over the leather. She plucked her fingers out and loosened it just as the rogue began to weaken.

Hawke sucked in a deep breath, the edges of her vision returning from black, and her head fell forward against the bedpost as she gawped to breath, shivering all the while. The throb in her loins ebbed, and she weakened, hanging more fully in her restraints. Hadriana prodded her greased fingers into the tight ring of her anus, widening and stretching with slow strokes.

"Thank you, mistress," Hawke scarce whispered, and the mage bit her again in reply, leaving a red, broken circle mark behind.

"Hush," Hadriana replied, tightening the leather again and making Hawke groan into silence. Resting her forehead on Hawke's back, she guided the wooden phallus on her hips, teasing and slipping against her tight button. The rogue twitched, tensing, restrained by rope and leather, closing her eyes as the pleasure rushed in her loins.

There was a knock at the door, and Hadriana paused, leaving the head of the phallus in. She turned her head, anger flaring and her eyes hardening, before she eased the wooden shaft a little deeper, making Hawke arch again. Another knock and the door opened, and Fenris entered, his eyes downcast.

Pulling out with a defined pluck of sound, Hadriana looked at him with smouldering eyes, "On your knees, slave."

Fenris cowed slightly, turning his palms up in surrender as he said, "The Master wishes Hawke for himself."

"What?" Hadriana said, before doing a double take as Hawke fought her bonds. She pulled the belt around her neck loose, and the rogue cried out, trembling and gasping deeply, hanging in her restraints.

Mouth hanging open slightly as he looked, Fenris dropped his eyes once more and said, "Master Danarius wishes Hawke for the evening. Immediately."

Snatching a flat dagger from her wardrobe, Hadriana walked to the bed and cut Hawke down in one swipe, leaving her to crumple to the ground. She snatched the phallus from her hips and threw it on the bed, before throwing on a robe and huffing, "Take her then."

As Hadriana left, Fenris advanced to help Hawke up. She weakly lifted her head, still panting as he supported her. He pressed his lips into a line and asked, "Can you walk?"

"I don't know," Hawke hoarsely said, her eyes dilated and a bit hazed. "Alright, yes... do you know what he wants?"

"No," Fenris quietly said, retying the rope on her wrists. "He merely sent me for you."

"Is Anders with him?" Hawke meekly said.

"No," Fenris replied, motioning for the door. He followed as she slowly walked out into the hall, eyes upon the bite marks on her back. He silently took her elbow and redirected her down the stairs and into Danarius' wide study.

"His study?" Hawke's expression drooped as Fenris rapped on the door. "This isn't good, is it."

Fenris averted his eyes, opening the door as Danarius commanded, and he followed her in.

"Come - kneel," Danarius said, turning from his musings to look at Hawke. "A leash. How quaint."

"Only to please you, master," Hawke whispered, her voice raw.

Danarius smirked and watched as she hobbled forward to sink to her knees, placing her palms on the polished hardwood. "Indeed. Fenris, go there." The elf moved at his Master's command, finding a place against the wall to watch.

Placing a hand on Hawke's head as one might a dog, Danarius spoke, "I have heard a great deal about your training - about the skills you maintain, and the ones you have used in the past. I feel they are going to waste as a mere plaything for even my most prized apprentice."

Hawke kept her eyes down, still breathing deeply. His fingers ran through her dark hair.

"I am aware you killed Archon Remus," Danarius said, watching her as he spoke. "That you broke into the hold of the Rivani merchants. That you slew a cell of templars that were infiltrating the city on behalf of the Orlesian Chantry. Am I correct?"

"Yes, master," Hawke whispered, almost smirking in pride.

"No doubt there is more," he smoothly said, petting her still. Drifting away, Danarius touched over a dagger, running a list of the ritual he had spent the day preparing in his mind. "Though you are my property, you are not wholly mine. And that is what I wish - for you to carry out my desires, kill whom I command, and protect my life with your own, secondary to Fenris."

"Of course, master," Hawke whispered, senses cohering more at the possibilities. That he was arrogant enough to think she would comply.

"While the knowledge of what might occur to Anders should you escape addresses one aspect of your life, do not think I am so naïve as to believe you would not kill me given the opportunity," Danarius calmly said. "Especially considering your skill. It would be wise to stay on your knees, lest this falter and kill you."

Hawke closed her eyes, and silently bowed her head. Danarius turned the dagger in his hand, before slashing and beginning the soft chant. The sluice of blood rose around Hawke, cohering into a brilliant crimson glyph. A sensation she had grown accustomed to - Maker, when should anyone know what it felt like, when should anyone recognize it - that seemed to paralyze her within the shell of her body.

"Lift your hands," Danarius said, his voice half faded. He wove the secondary layer of the ritual, securing the dagger on his belt to take up the small, enchanted stone. He laid it in her hands.

The stone seared her flesh, and though Hawke tensed, she could not respond as the sensation burrowed in. It was beetles - no centipedes, or something terrible and slithery - rising up her arms and feeding on her very blood. She jerked slightly, a fraction of control surfacing through the blood-borne magical vice. But it was already along her spine, and all that escaped was a tremor in her arms as blood wept from her eyes.

More blood splashed from Danarius hands as he chanted, the air brightening as he wove the Fade to his will. A nimbus of light encapsulated them, and soon it broke apart. The release of energy buffeted Fenris back a step against the wall. The stone dropped from Hawke's hands, and she crumpled to the ground, keening in agony and coiling on the ground. Her eyes screwed tight, unable to think in the pain, when she realized it was her voice that filled the air.

Fenris shuddered, the sound of her scream digging under his skin. His eyes glazed over to give the illusion that he watched. She screamed again, and he knew it was something Anders would be able to hear from where he worked in the library.

He dug his nails into the fist of his hand, a statue standing witness - but the way his stomach churned proved his mortality.

The glyph dissipated after some time, and Danarius buoyed from the mana drain. He gripped his hands together tight, breathing heavily as he looked down. Hawke was still on the ground, though her screaming had stopped, she had devolved into soft pants, and her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Is it too much for you slave?" he said with cool finesse. He brushed his hair back from his face, retying the leather that held it. "The daughter of a mage, an apple that fell so far from the tree. Something you could have been - someone you could have been. And perhaps you would have been worthwhile."

"Please, master," Hawke whispered, her head rolling onto its side as she surfaced. She hurt deep within, an ache like she had fought for days lanced with fresh flaying.

"So you sought to find love from another mage - to find worth with another. But you were always just a tool, a sharp object to be used to accomplish Anders' means - while he is the one who has the potential to be great. You, on the other hand, are merely a plain woman," Danarius said, maintaining the same degree of control and scathing coolness in his words. "A crying woman writhing on the floor, all but given into slavery on the idea of his love."

Hawke's features contorted, hardening as she gathered up to her hands and knees, leaving her head hanging as she tried to reign in her swimming senses.

"An extra body, a source of income to support the one who really mattered after your father died - sweet Bethany. Living with the knowledge you will always be in her shadow - oh, what she will become here. Here, where she has the chance to be great."

Limbs trembling, Hawke pushed herself up to launch at Danarius, despite her bound hands. At the aggression though, her breath arrested, and a weakness fled through her knees, forcing her back to the ground. It was only when she relaxed her muscles to accept the position on all fours that she gulped for air, panting and trembling at the true fright such a reaction manifested.

"Excellent," Danarius said, smiling and looking down upon her. "It shall become easier in time - and the thought of harming me will not even be a memory. But there is still one more." He casually slipped the dagger from his waist, and stabbed his hand, and the tip blade popped out the back of his hand.

Though he scarce twitched, Hawke cried out, and her hand snapped back protectively to her body. She finally looked at it wide-eyed, still trembling as she saw it whole. She could feel the skin split, it was almost blinding her with the pain - her left hand. He had stabbed his left hand.

"In time, little bird," Danarius said, drawing the dagger across her shoulder to spill blood. He put his cut hand through it, and spoke a soft word that healed him. Hawke was lead on the floor, still looking at her hand as she trembled. "You will be happier for it. Revere me, and you will be content."


	10. Stick Your Chest Out

"Why even bother taking the time?" the young magister asked, crossing his arms and looking to Hadriana from where Hawke tested the weight of her wooden daggers.

"Why do anything unless you enjoy it?" Hadriana replied.

"You enjoy watching them spar?"

"I enjoy watching her," Hadriana said under her breath, regarding her companion with a spark in her eyes. "Don't you?"

"I…" the mage replied, before looking back to Hawke. She and Fenris had begun to circle each other now. "It's a pity she's a slave."

"Quite the contrary," Hadriana said, motioning towards her. "Did you wish her?"

The man flushed and his lips smacked closed as Hadriana laughed and sat down. An elf brought them iced mint tea, and raised a parasol to keep the sun off her mistress.

"Don't you ever think about it?" Hawke said under her breath, out of earshot of the mages. She was in just her smalls and bra band to spar Fenris, who was equally dressed down in the heat.

Fenris advanced into a series of blows with her, muscles tensing as his wide waster glanced off her small wooden sticks. He could not keep up with her, and he flared blue as he swung, just barely glancing and knocking her off her feet. Hawke kipped up with ease, snapping her leg to catch him against the back of his knees, before rolling and pinning him to the ground.

Hawke pressed the wooden dagger to his throat, "There's a life outside these walls. We are meant to be free." When she mimicked slicing him open, Fenris rolled, and they each evaded to keep away from the other's weapon.

Fenris spoke in a breath as they glanced blows again, the wide sword swinging, "Such thoughts do us no good."

"You only say so because you don't know any better," Hawke replied in a whisper as she rolled out of his way, snagging his arm to knee him in the back. He took it with stride, and the wide blade swept her way, smacking an arm before hitting her in the chest with the pommel. "Unless you like this."

"Do not talk," Fenris said through his teeth, raising his blade to advance on her. It wasn't until the last moment that Hawke moved, her own daggers hitting his elbows and knees, before she followed through and kicked him in the small of the back.

"Or is it my Anders," she stressed, speaking in between deep breaths. The sun was fricking hot, and she had to wipe the sweat from her brow. She caught herself on a hand as Fenris swiped at her, before following through with a roundhouse that thwacked his shoulder.

"He is not yours, nor anyone's," Fenris said, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, I see now," Hawke replied, arms moving in a flurry to block his sweeping blows. She cursed when he hit the back of her hand, dropping the dagger. She followed it to the ground, snagging it before rolling out of the way. Fenris stabbed after her, but he wasn't fast enough. "This is fun."

Fenris shook his head, almost smirking as they exchanged a few more blows.

"I just enjoy sparring you - breaks up the..." Hawke murmured, a little winded. "You're very good."

"Thank you," Fenris said, before being caught by another kick. He huffed a little, before saying, "So are you."

"Oh, I know," Hawke replied, with a brief, devilish grin. A ghost flickered in her features as he pushed her back. They grappled and she whispered, eyes on their hands, "Can you hurt him, Fenris?"

Furrowing his brow, Fenris only paused a moment, before continuing with the movements of their spar. He made sure Hadriana and the other mage were far enough before he chanced whisper, "I don't know."

"You've never tried?" Hawke asked, wiping the sweat from her temple as they parried each other and squared off once more.

"I... I could not," Fenris shook his head, and his limbs glowed blue as he darted and caught Hawke off guard. She floundered back, and his wide wooden sword followed, smacking the ground as she rolled out of the way. They locked up again, and he growled slightly, "The things he would... I have no desire to be given to Hadriana as punishment."

"No," Hawke said in a breath, and they paused as each panted. The sun was high overhead, and they were both glistening with sweat.

"Little bird," Hadriana called, and Hawke looked, just barely putting her arm up in time to stop Fenris' blow. He stopped too, and they both dropped their eyes. "Come. Fenris, continue."

Hawke nodded briefly to Fenris, meeting his eyes before she put her draggers aside and went to Hadriana, sinking to her knees beside the mages. She was still out of breath as she said, "Is there something you wish, mistress?"

"Many things," Hadriana replied, smiling at the man beside her. "Expose your breasts for our guest."

Cheeks already flushed from exertion, Hawke blinked lengthily as she hesitated. Before she could be scolded, she untied her breast band and let it drop to the ground. Hadriana reached to caress Hawke's hair back from her face as the man beside her exhaled.

"His former master was much more conservative than ours," Hadriana coolly said, reaching down to caress Hawke's breasts. The rogue nodded and tucked her chin down as her nipples hardened. The lady magister eased back into the shade of her parasol. "But that magister is no longer his concern, mm? Do as he pleases, and it shall please me."

"Yes, mistress," Hawke said breathily, shamefully closing her eyes. "What do you wish, ser?"

"Good," Hadriana glowed, and took up her tea, eyes sparkling as she watched Hawke.

"It's Salvo," the mage replied, glancing to Hadriana as he undid his trousers.

"If that helps you, dear," Hadriana smirked, biting her bottom lip as the young mage asked Hawke to touch him. Snickering would do no good. The position he had taken over was a considerable one - best play the part.

Hawke closed her eyes as she ran her hand up the man's thigh, gradually wrapping her fingers around his half-hard member. He sighed out and slipped his hand into her hair, leaning into her grasp. Her pulse was coming down from the combat, and her breath flowed over his thigh, prompting him to urge his hips into her hand, hardening further.

"He was rather keen on the way I described your breasts - the way they move when you fight," Hadriana casually said.

"Hadriana," Salvo almost laughed in a breath, blinking as Hawke wet her palm. He sighed out and looked down as she stroked his shaft, glistening skin slipping as it reddened.

"I know I'd like to see it," Hadriana murmured, licking her lips. She ran her fingers up her chin and over her lips, Salvo watching her as she mused. He groaned as Hawke's strokes sped, clutching and tugging his hardness. "Wet him well, and lie back, little bird."

Hawke closed her eyes, feeling the man's eyes down upon her as she leant forward, letting her saliva gather on her tongue before suckling his shaft into her mouth. Salvo groaned and tightened his hand in her hair, giving a little thrust to push in deeper. His hips pulsed, stroking his engorged member in her mouth a few times before he pulled out.

Exhaling, Hawke laid back on the hot brick of the patio, squinting in the brightness. Hadriana grinned and put her bare foot on the rogue's head to hold her down as Salvo sunk to his knees and straddled Hawke. Soon the man's hands were on her breasts, caressing their softness, his sac dragging up her stomach as he moved. He leant forward to kiss the inside of Hadriana's thigh and the woman chuckled, before he massaged Hawke's breasts again.

Salvo let his weight sink on her stomach, pressing Hawke's breasts together to slide his slick cock between the cleavage. Groaning, his thighs tensed, and he squeezed them tighter, moving his hips to stroke. Leaning forward, he spat on her breasts and smushed them again, cock gliding into the formed passage with more ease.

"Hold your breasts for him, pet," Hadriana purred when Hawke made a sound, and she rolled her foot so the rogue was forced to look at the sparring ground.

Hawke slid her hands up to squeeze her breasts together, and Salvo gripped her shoulder, his thighs and ass tensing against her stomach as his cock slipped against her skin. Nearby, she could see Fenris sparring, but as Savlo groaned and ground more quickly, the elf hesitated, watching the debauchery.

He was watching her.

A blush renewed itself on Hawke's cheeks, and she clamped her lips shut as Hadriana murmured encouragement to Salvo. She could hear the smack of their mouths in a kiss, and his fingers tightened on her shoulder, and she saw Fenris adjust himself in his smalls, before he turned away and disappeared into the mansion.

Hadriana purred her encouragement, toes wriggling on Hawke's cheek as Salvo fucked her breasts, and the two mages kissed again. Holding her breasts, the rogue closed her eyes, her pulse in her throat as she was used, and the man above her groaned and pinned her down, thrusts moving quickly, slipping in the passage of her breasts.

With a sudden jerk, Salvo groaned out into Hadriana's lips, and Hawke felt the warm spurt against her throat, his strokes slowing and slipping with greater ease in his spilt seed. The lady magister moved her foot and stood, a quiet spell on her lips to rejuvenate Salvo, and she pulled him to his feet. They kissed more deeply, and her hand sought his loins, his eager groan smothered by their kiss.

Hawke was left on the ground as Hadriana tugged him back towards the mansion, and the rogue only sat up when her mistress was gone. The elven slave nearby glanced towards the door before offering Hawke a bit of cloth.

"Thank you, Sylaren," Hawke quietly said, blushing as she turned her eyes down and wiped the semen from her reddened breasts.

* * *

Entering from the courtyard, Fenris ignored the other slaves and marched to his master's chambers, skin glistening from his training. He took the pitcher of water from the table and drank deep, closing his eyes. The image of Hawke on her back was there, her breasts pressed around the mage's cock. He exhaled roughly from his nose, before drinking more of the water.

"Fenris?"

The elf turned at Anders voice, his expression softening as he said, "I apologize. I forgot you were resting."

The enslaved mage walked in from their small ancillary quarters. Dark circles under his eyes, Anders waved a hand, "Difficult to sleep in this heat. Hopefully Danarius doesn't need me again tonight."

"What... what does our Master use you for?" Fenris said, before realizing Anders was staring. He cleared his throat and glanced askance as he adjusted his pent hard-on. "Hadriana was... allowing her guest to use Hawke."

"What, and you liked it?" Anders smirked, crossing his arm and leaning in the doorway. When Fenris softly scoffed, the mage's expression shifted, "Is she alright?"

Putting the pitcher down, Fenris said, "I am not sure. Our Master has... done things to her. But she is allowed to train with me now. It's rather enjoyable, actually."

Anders closed his eyes and nodded, looking down, "I'll get us out of this, I promise. And you can come with us."

"You sound like her," Fenris murmured, running a hand over his forehead to wipe his sweat into his translucent, damp hair.

Shrugging, Anders said, "Well however fun being enslaved with you might be, I've never done well in a cage. Just another challenging escape. And I won't do it without ensuring you and all the other elves are freed as well."

Crossing the room, Fenris took Anders cheek and leant up to kiss him. The mage was a bit surprised, but as the elf pressed to him, he cupped the other man's neck, and their tongues met with a subtle groan. Fenris stepped into him, their bodies pressed together, and the bulge in his smalls pressed against Anders loins.

When their lips broke, Anders laughed once and asked, "So what were they doing to Marian?"

Fenris averted his eyes, even as Anders brought his hand up over his loins, and he exhaled roughly before saying, "The mage was using her breasts. Fucking them."

"I wish I could see," Anders whispered, leaning into Fenris and kissing his neck. He let his breath tickle the skin, speaking close to his ear, "In a better time, she loved that sort of thing. She's actually quite depraved, you know."

"Oh?" Fenris breathily replied, running his hand up Anders' chest as the mage kissed his ear. He groaned as he licked delicately up it, breath magnified and hardening him further. "You would have done it?"

"And much more," Anders murmured, chuckling a little before kissing his neck again.

Anders slipped Fenris' smalls over his hips as the elf writhed against him, running his fingers up the underside of his member. They kissed again, an eager play of lips and tongue that left them softly gasping as Fenris gathered up Anders' simple robes. Sinking to his knees, the elf stroked firmly and kissed the mage's pelvis.

"Maker," Anders sighed, leaning back into the doorframe and looking down as the other man trailed his tongue over the curvature of his hips. His eyes closed into a groan as Fenris pressed a soft kiss on the engorged head. Anders slipped his fingers into his pale hair, and tensed as his cock disappeared into those lips. He spoke in a breath, "Somehow I think we'd have made a lovely trio."

The only reply Fenris offered was the glide of his tongue down the veiny underside of Anders' shaft, drawing a deeper moan. He twisted his head, drawing his tongue around it as he suckled and moved into a subtle bob of pace, urged by the fingers tightening in his hair. Anders' knees weakened, and he propped himself up in the doorway, looking as the elf's lips slid across his wanting member, and when Fenris ran his hand up his buttocks to tease a finger against his tight ring, he panted out.

"Turning me to jelly," Anders gasped, tensing his thighs in the moment before Fenris wiggled a finger into his anus, and the mage's head fell back against the door as his hips urged into the elf's mouth. "Hardly fair to you... agh, sweet Bride of the Maker, Fenris..."

The elf chuckled against his loins, before suctioning and swallowing Anders' deep, closing his eyes as the cock pressed back in his throat, stretching and taking it in a well-trained manner. Anders jerked again, pumping his hips as Fenris worked another finger into his tight ring.

"Seeing that man fuck Marian's breasts," Anders cheeks were flushed as he looked back down Fenris fellating him. "Wouldn't you rather come close to that? Ngh, I'd much rather... it be you over your fingers."

When Fenris plucked his mouth off to speak, Anders stepped away, snagging his wrist, "I... I do not know when Master returns."

"He's at the senate," Anders said, voice ragged. "First of the month, you know."

"Ah," Fenris said, letting himself be pulled back towards their small cot. When Anders kissed him, his hands gathered the man's robes again, and the mage let him pull them off. Lips enmeshed again, he shivered as Anders groaned, and their cocks rubbed together.

Anders mouth found his neck, and lips and tongue ran up to toy with Fenris' ear, drawing a throaty sound as he whispered, "Don't think of him. Think of what you want."

Fenris exhaled roughly, eyes closed as Anders suckled his skin and teased his sensitive, elven ears. He followed as the mage pulled him down onto the bed, and soon his hands ran along the other man's thighs, hips slowly grinding together to keep rubbing their throbbing members together.

"I think of what you want," Fenris rumbled by Anders' cheek, and in a moment they were kissing again. He shuddered as the mage breathed the arcanum against his lips, and soon a hand followed down his shaft, slicking it with grease.

"Do you want me to beg?" Anders whispered, stroking the elf and drawing another groan. Fenris planted a hand on his chest, steadying himself as he closed his eyes, pulse rushing with desire.

"No," he panted, and a momentary flush of colour was across his cheeks. "I merely cannot recall... this... is not my role. It is not allowed."

"One of many things to change then," Anders huffed, his hand running down Fenris' forearm to encourage him, and the elf eased his cock against the mage's back door. "Just... go easy at first."

Fenris hung his head down, watching in the shaded room as Anders stroked up his own cock. His loins pulsed and he urged the head of his member into the tight ring, exhaling sharply at the sensation. Anders groaned, and pressed his head back onto the pillow, thumb caressing over the head of his own cock, smearing pre-cum as the elf inched deeper.

"Is this alright?" Fenris breathed, thighs tenses as he forced his way deeper, gliding slick on the oil.

Anders roughly exhaled, half smirking as he murmured, "Yes - Maker, yes. Come here..." He cupped his hand around Fenris neck, tugging him down for a kiss, and the motion pulled him deeper, hips coming flush and making Anders moan into the kiss.

Fenris lay into him, twirling his tongue as his pulse choked him, the throb in his loins equally viced by the twitch of Anders' ass. Pulling out of the kiss for air, he hung his head over the mage's shoulder, skin to skin as he scarce moved his hips. Anders tugged his knees higher, making the next slow roll of Fenris' hips sink deeper, and their moans muffled into each other's skin.

Caressing around Anders' neck, Fenris sat up more, backside tensed as he felt down the mage's chest, easing into a lethargic pace that prevented him from being overwhelmed. He hooked his other hand under Anders' knee, pressing it higher as he looked down on their union, the mage's pleasured pants shivering into him. When he groaned louder, Fenris reached up to clamp a hand over his mouth.

"We cannot be heard," he whispered, a subtle fear underlying his words.

There was mischief in Anders' eyes and he nodded, lips puckering into Fenris' palm.

Keeping his hand there, Fenris looked back down to where Anders stroked his own cock with the slow paces of his thrusts. Huffing a breath, he bit his lips shut, the sound escaping out his nostrils instead as he ground together, sweat on his skin from the hot day. The sound of Anders' pleasure was muffled by his fingers, and sent a zing of curious delight through him.

Digging his fingers into Anders' thigh, Fenris mouth fell open, thighs tensing to roll his hips at a growing pace, slick and hard in the tight passage. Grinding more roughly, he tempered the needed pant in his breath, finally closing his eyes and dissolving into the throb of pleasure, loins tightening. He could feel the smack of Ander's hand against his abdomen, jerking himself with the same growing frenzy.

When Anders' breath caught, Fenris opened his eyes, watching the mage arc and feeling the sudden clench about his cock. Huffing hard, he pressed deep and shuddered with the rush of lust through him. Pumping to milk the sensation as he erupted in the man's ass, he watched Anders writhe, the mage's hand slipping in the milky strands spurting over his stomach and chest. Fenris' fingers smeared off of Anders lips, still throbbing and spilling his seed as his hips slowed, and he bent over the man to hungrily take his lips.


	11. Fit to be Tied

Hawke closed her eyes, keeping her chin down as Danarius ran a hand over her nude feminine curves. She took his hand as he offered it, bringing it to her lips and he chuckled, cupping her cheek and brushing her hair off her neck.

"You have been learning well, little bird," Danarius coolly said, his expression impassive. "Keep my guests as happy as you have kept my apprentice, and things will become easier for you at the estate. It is still my desire to see you retake your former profession in my service. And I have a job suited to your abilities."

"If it pleases you, master," Hawke quietly said, blinking as he ran his hand over her breasts and hips.

"Please them, and you will please me," Danarius said, turning and beckoning to Fenris from where he stood by the door. The elf's eyes lingered on Hawke before he followed the magister out into the ball. The murmur of music and voices could be heard from the hall - though it had dimmed considerably.

Hawke had spent the evening with her eyes downcast, meandering amidst Danarius' associates and refilling their goblets with the Blue Magus. She had turned heads, and she could hear them talking about her. It was one of the first occasions she had been allowed about the estate without some form restraint or bondage - she almost missed it. She had been unprepared to see her sister, and Bethany almost didn't recognize her. Talking of any sort was not possible. It left her disarmed, and she felt exposed as the night waned.

Carver would have ripped her to shreds had he seen her. Marian Hawke had been buried beneath the weight of... she didn't know what she was now.

But she had hesitated too long. Hawke followed on bare feet back into the soiree, which had grown private into the late hours. Musicians still played, just loud enough to afford a modicum of privacy in conversation. She had heard the elves whisper of this party - this night, which was once the Feast of Urthemiel, was still practised though the Black Chantry ruled. For beauty. Hadriana turned from her admirers when she saw Hawke.

"And there she is, our little pearl to lay amongst the oysters," Hadriana said, running her hand up Hawke's bare arm. She guided Hawke towards the drawing room, whose wide doors were gated in a gauzy curtain. "Our gem for your pleasure."

The oysters. Their whisperings were true - the fine ladies from the Bearded Oyster, hired to satiate the delights of the guests.

Hawke could feel her pulse under her skin, and there was no denying the blush on her cheeks as she was led through the curtain. There were ladies and men bent in compromising positions, the slap of skin and sighs, and the air smelt of musk and semen. But it was heady, and she tucked her chin down as Hadriana stroked Hawke's breasts, caressing her skin and plying her nipples hard. She scarce noticed Anders come through the curtain.

"They want to see you glow, my pet," Hadriana said, cupping Hawke's cheek before she turned and issued quick commands to an elven slave nearby. "String her up."

It was then Hawke's eyes drew to the peculiar wooden apparatus - the shape of half a heart, as though it were broken. Its base was reinforced and bolted to the floor. She knew the slave that came to clap her wrists in leather bonds. Veyena - she had brushed Hawke's hair one night when she cried after an evening of blood-forced torture. Most of the elves didn't care that she were human anymore - she was a slave like them.

Hawke felt the colour drain from her cheeks at the unbidden thought. She was a slave. Even she was thinking it now. That couldn't be right.

The elven woman averted her eyes, so well trained from youth, and Hawke felt the panic rise in her chest as she was hooked to a chain that was linked to the uppermost tip of the apparatus, and her arms were hoisted up over her head. The position lifted her breasts in a pleasing way, and she was elongated until she was on the balls of her feet. She could hear the mages with Hadriana speaking under their breath, and Hawke twirled a moment, catching their eyes upon her.

Just do what they wish, Hawke thought. Please them, cry, moan and give them what they wish, and they will not hurt you. Not badly. A chill sunk in her belly. Maker no, don't think like that.

"Mistress," Hawke softly gasped, blushing as she turned her face into her arm, a wash of light-headedness going through her. Anders - she had seen Anders, and he was seeing this. What dignity could she have left?

"You are a beautiful bird," Hadriana reassured from behind her, and she felt a hand run down the curve of her ass. "You will do all they wish. This?" The mage laughed and squeezed Hawke's backside as she replied to one of her friends, "Of course."

Hadriana's fingers slipped down Hawke's thigh to spread her ass cheek, and the bound woman shuddered, finding small comfort in the shelter of her arm. Then the cool dampness of a foreign object pressed against her tight button, and she shuddered a breath, tugging in her restraint, only to have another hand press her stomach.

"She'll get away from you, if you let her," Anders said, and Hawke exhaled heavily. He held her firmly as Hadriana pressed the wooden plug in, and Hawke groaned thickly, arms tensing as though to escape if she could, when it finally sunk to fit. "She needs a firm hand."

"I am surprised to see you off your leash," Hadriana casually said, scratching her fingers over Hawke's ass and making her shiver.

"Our master wished me to join your company," Anders simply said, and his hair brushed Hawke's arm as he leant closer to Hadriana. "Perhaps you would prefer to mingle with your companions, and I might flog your bird for all your enjoyment?"

Hawke's mouth dried, and she found herself staring across the room as they conversed behind her. A man had a whore bent over the edge of a chair and was rutting her with little flair, while another was on her knees to lean up and put her lips upon his ass. She was blushing more, isn't that what they wished?

"I can't deny, I am a little surprised, Anders," Hadriana said, still caressing and scratching Hawke's ass. Now and then she let her fingers pass to wiggle the plug there.

"The Circle wasn't always boring, you know," Anders replied.

The delights of pain and humiliation were not new to Hawke. As they moved behind her, she could recall the times Anders hands had abused her, lost in the ecstasy of their bodies, and the smacks seemed to magnify and trip her into that blissful state. They could laugh, kiss and love, and in their private quarters he would take a belt to her backside and thighs.

When pain had been an exquisite pleasure, when she had trembled and felt her pulse rush, when it seemed too much and she learned to escape - and through escape, fly. A place Hadriana rarely ever helped her go.

"Marian," Anders whispered beside her.

Hawke pulled back to her senses, tilting her head to him, "Yes, ser?"

"I miss you," he said, a soft crack in his voice. "Don't speak..."

His hand was on her abdomen again, a touch she had not felt in... could she remember the days that blurred together? The days she went without seeing him? It was almost another lifetime. A life away.

"I miss fucking you, I miss hearing my name on your lips," Anders whispered as his fingers slipped over her freshly shaven sex. He exhaled heavily, and Hawke twitched in her bonds as he touched over her clit, "I miss your laughter, and you making fun of me. I miss you and Varric getting drunk."

Hawke's mouth fell open, but no words came as the leather flog whipped over her thighs, and she jerked, almost losing her footing. The hits that followed were harder and erratic, licking fire along her skin, and she gasped for breath to force it even. His fingers were still on her, slipping in her nether lips, teasing and setting her breath heavy.

"I want you to enjoy it," Anders said under his breath. "Maker knows what little pleasure you get."

Groaning, Hawke hung her head forward, back arcing as she writhed under his knowing touch, and when there was a spark in his fingers she gasped more heavily. The flog followed, a swished snap of leather that bit in consecutive hits, tenderizing her. She clenched when it hit harder, and it brought a second zing of pleasure where the plug filled her, and she began to slip.

But the eyes, all the eyes she knew were on her. Hawke's cheeks flushed as she lifted her face towards the ceiling, breathing more heavily as she rocked with the rhythm of his hits. It numbed and prickled up her thighs and buttocks, burning heat where she was hit.

"I don't know when we'll be able to speak next," Anders weakly whispered, breath hot in her neck. There was another word on his lips, arcanum, and then his icy touch ran down her tenderized backside, and Hawke shivered, tensing up in her bonds with a harsh whimper. "But Danarius gave my apartments to your mother and Bethany."

Hawke's eyes opened towards the ceiling, even as she shivered wholly, feeling his fingers slip along her sex again, ice cold and freezing her core. The relief was palpable, and dissolved into the next series of hits, the swings wider and hitting harder as she shuddered. A sharp cry bit her lips as another crackle of energy zinged along her spine, the tendrils of lightning jerking her muscles. She lost her footing, gasping hard as she blinked, almost smiling at the oddity of it. Hadriana's magical touch was not so controlled, so tempered.

"I'm so sorry, my love," Anders whispered, and she felt him press against her side, his robes gone. He was hard against her thigh, and her pulse leapt higher, beating in her senses and ears, a throb in her loins, ass and along every welt where he'd hit. "He's taken Bethany as an apprentice. She could not refuse."

Anders chilled fingers found Hawke's sex again, and a different implement snapped along her back, wielded by another's hand - it bit deep, flaring through her senses to couple with his words.

"No, Maker no -" Hawke huffed, tensing in the bonds that held her, and the pain of the next lashings magnified, her muscles tight. She didn't care, she didn't care, she knew not to tense, but bring the pain. Her voice rose in her throat as she cried out, "No!"

Anders hands were down her thighs as Hawke choked on her breath, and the short whip cracked up her shoulders, leaving bright, quick marks on her skin. His fingers were in her again, steadying her body for the lashes that lanced her. It was too much, too much to know, too much to have his touch again, and she gripped fists as she cried out, the sound deadened in the private space.

Hawke broke as the plug was pulled out, and she choked on another cry, hanging her head down, dark daggers of hair clinging to her sweat. She could hear his voice, a sorrowed reassurance, reminding her that the other mages were watching. Watching their novelty human slave crack. Hadriana's purring approval was there, and the way it soothed made Hawke sob again.

Glancing to the man at her shoulder, Hadriana grinned devilishly and took his hand, running it down the wood phallus she had strapped to her hips. The lady mage took Hawke's hips, angling them back as she dangled from her bonds, and with greased ease violated her derriere.

In a blur of tears, Hawke felt Anders lips and she shuddered, the kiss catching her cry as Hadriana sunk the phallus deep, stretching her backside. The chilled fingers in her wiggled renewed, her natural sex tightened from its partner being filled.

"Do you want me to fuck you, pet?" Hadriana huffed, her breath on the back of Hawke's neck.

Lips freed as she shuddered, Hawke's expression contorted as Anders pumped his fingers in her sex. She struggled to find words, but when Hadriana snatched a handful of her hair and tugged her head back, more tears spilled and she choked, "Yes, mistress."

Hadriana sighed in satisfaction, fingers tightening in the dark hair as she rolled her hips, sinking the phallus deep and making Hawke whimper. Anders pulled his fingers out and gathered Hawke's knees up, letting her hang in the bonds as he nudged his hardened member against her damp slit. Hawke's breasts smushed against his chest as Anders jerked his hips to fill her, and she moaned out, losing all sense of the room.

Hawke cried out again, unable to think as the conflicting sensations ground together, filling and fucking her, hips rolling together to buoy her in the bonds. She panted hard, and when Hadriana clutched her breast with an electric touch, Hawke fell over the edge, voice growing ragged with the throaty pants and moans that carried her through the obliterating ecstasy. She could scarce tell what she cried.

Laughing with peculiar delight, Hadriana pulled out and stepped back and took the short whip her companion held. It cracked over Hawke's back as the rogue's legs slipped in Ander's grip, coiling about his waist to cling to the union and his thrusts. The pain blurred it more, drowning the thoughts and beckoning more tears to Hawke's eyes.

Anders buried his face in her neck, shuddering as Hawke groaned again, the sound wavering into a soft cry, and the tension in his loins released. He dug his fingers into her thighs, jerking erratically to deeply pump his release.

"Why," Hawke raggedly whispered, shuddering with the forced pleasure and tears, her eyes screwed close.

Shaking his head, Anders ran his hand over Hawke's cheek and kissed her lips, before he staggered back on weak legs, knowing another mage waited, watching, hand upon his own cock in anticipation of the rut.

* * *

Numbed and weary, it was nearing dawn when Hawke was freed from her duties at the party, and the slim elf who had strung her up came to help her to the slave quarters. Hawke tried to walk on her own, but her muscles were loath to respond, and she leant into Veyena's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Hawke hoarsely whispered, throat and mouth abused. Her eyes were dilated wide, scarce able to stay awake.

"Mistress wished me to help you," the woman replied, readjusting the light robe around the human slave.

Hawke cringed, the fabric needles against her skin where her freshest welts and breaks clotted with blood. Healed and abused again, the night had dissolved into a blur as she was plied to please the mages, drinking their seed and crying in pain as they employed their arts to keep her invigorated and writhing. When they were done, the simple healing spells no longer mattered.

"I know I can't be light," Hawke whispered, looking down as she hobbled slowly.

"I'll bathe you," Veyena said, her eyes down. Her voice softened, "It will help."

"Have... have they done that to you?" Hawke quietly asked.

"N-no... no, Mistress did not wish me there. It has been... private," the elf replied.

"Good," Hawke croaked, and she cringed and leaned on the cool wall as Veyena opened the door to the slave quarters. She helped Hawke into a chair, and the rogue's limbs hung limp, her head a rag doll as she looked in her lap and closed her eyes. She had almost fallen asleep when a light touch took her wrist and a warm, wet cloth slid up her arm. A whimper fell from her lips at the rough cloth on her broken skin.

"I am sorry," Veyena said, brushing her other hand through Hawke's hair. She dabbed the wet cloth where the skin had broken before rinsing it. "It will be better after."

Better. Hawke let her tongue fill her mouth, staring half-lidded at the floor as the elf took her limbs and washed them with tender care. It served to reason things could only get better from there. The pleasure had fled her body as she was used, loins throbbing into a numbness of sensitization. She had enjoyed it.

Hawke closed her eyes, shoulders shaking as she hung her head lower. Veyena hushed her and put the cloth in the bowl, gathering the rogue's head into her arms.

"You did good," Veyena whispered. "Master will be pleased."

"Maker," Hawke choked on the word, dragging her limbs up to embrace the other woman as she turned her face into the softness of her bosom. She was trembling when the memory surfaced. Bethany. He'd taken Bethany as an apprentice. "Maker's mercy why..."

"Don't be sad," Veyena said, shaking her head and running her fingers through to comb Hawke's hair. "It's over now, you're okay. You're okay, and they're happy. You'll be okay."

Hawke lifted her watery eyes to meet the wide hazel gaze of the elf. Veyena smiled tiredly as she did, reaching for the wet cloth again to wipe over the human's face, scrubbing at the dried semen and salty flakes of tears. It was such naïve simplicity. That it would be all right - that her life as a slave could be some normality. Her heartbeat was hollow and distant in her chest.

"You'll see," Veyena softly said, running her thumb under Hawke's eye to wipe away a lash.

Exhaling out her nose, Hawke's hand crept up the elf's back, drawing her down in the same moment she lifted her head to catch her lips. Veyena tensed briefly in surprise, before her fingers found Hawke's cheek again, and they lingered together. She gradually drew Hawke's head back against her abdomen, and the rogue stared at the fire as the elf gingerly cleaned her back and legs.

"Come stay with me," Veyena said when she was done, laying the cloth to dry. She took up the small wooden comb, and waved it as though to entice Hawke. "There is not much room."

Eyes down, Hawke took the elf's hand and followed her on slow, block-foot steps. The hum of sleep was under her skin, and she just could not stand to think anymore. They went into the sleeping area, where woven mats and hammocks strung the room. Veyena led them to her place along the outerwall, and guided them down.

Hawke leaned back into the plaster, and her breath shuddered at the relief of its cool touch. Veyena drew the comb through her hair, letting her other hand rest on the woman's cheek. Exhaling slow, Hawke closed her eyes and let herself be drawn close to the warm body beside her, sliding her hand over the elf's hip. She was asleep before another thought could threaten.


	12. Disobedient Bodies

"This is our chance!" Hawke said as she looked down the alley. The slaves at the balnea and senate had revolted and there was rioting in the streets. Qunari and elves had risen against the magisters, and the screams of Imperial citizens rang across the quarter.

"He will not survive," Fenris replied, bent on a knee to clutch Danarius.

"Are you a healer?" Hawke asked. "No, and neither am I. So let us take our chances - agh." She clutched her chest, paling as more blood wept from the magister's wound. Falling to her knees alongside him, she gasped and tried to breath.

"You will not escape so easily," Fenris said, and he gathered Danarius into his arms.

"Wretches," Danarius gasped, blood on his lips and fire in his eyes. "The manor. Anders."

"To heal him," Hawke emptily replied, and there was an explosion in the next street, shaking the foundation of the building beside them. Weighted with the pain of her master's injuries, she shook her head, "This way."

They ran through the quarter towards the fenced estate, and scarce made it through the gate as the violence followed. Hawke collapsed against the iron, latching it closed to follow Fenris into the manor. The elven slaves emerged from where they hid as the branded warrior shouldered Danarius up the stairs to where Anders was.

"What are you doing here," Hawke raggedly said, hand to her chest. She was paling considerably.

"I don't want to die," Veyena said, eyes wide. She put her hands in her hair. "Why are they doing this, what will the masters do! They cannot think it helps."

"It will," Hawke hissed, and her breath shuddered.

"Return to your duties," an older elf replied, and the slaves scattered. He looked at Hawke with stone eyes before disappearing.

Dragging up the stairs, Hawke looked down the hall. She could hear the heated edge of Danarius' voice, and soon Fenris escaped into the hall. He pulled the door shut behind him and glanced down, his shoulders cowed.

"You look like a wet cat," Hawke murmured, and he stalked towards her.

"He did not wish me present," Fenris replied, expression twisting. "You angered him greatly. And I displeased him."

"Poor dear," Hawke almost rolled her eyes, and her posture righted as she drew a deep breath, her organs ceasing to wrench in pain. "Thank the Maker for Anders sparkly fingers... Maybe you were right."

"Of course I was right," Fenris snapped, his chin still down as he walked toward Hawke. "He is our master, and you would abandon him."

Shaking her head, Hawke pushed into Hadriana's room, and Fenris lingered in the doorway, "I'm going to get out if I can. Even... even if it kills me."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" Fenris asked, glancing back down the hall before wandering into the room. He crossed his arms.

"I don't know," Hawke said, staring down as she began to unbuckle her armour. Removing her chestplate, it revealed a series of dark burns down her shoulder and back. "Somehow dying trying to escape seems preferable to just being killed maliciously by one of them."

"You should mind your words," Fenris slowly frowned, his voice more even-tempered. "Should our Mistress hear..."

"She left to Vyrantium yesterday. If she can hear, all the more impressive," Hawke replied bitterly. "A week... that's the freedom I get now, isn't it."

"She didn't bring you?" Fenris asked, stepping up to help with one of the buckles as Hawke cringed in pain.

"Danarius forbid it," Hawke murmured. She closed her eyes with fatigue. "He's badly injured. It will take time for Anders to heal him."

"Hmm," Fenris replied, slowly glancing away as Hawke stripped more of her armour. She was soon down to just her smalls, and she poured some water into a bowl from an ewer. Wetting a cloth, she wiped the blood from her skin, and he watched her cringe as she dabbed the burns. "Did... Hadriana do that?"

"With a friend," Hawke quietly said, washing the cloth as she looked down. "Since she was going to be gone, you know?"

Hesitating, Fenris shut the door and walked over, pulling a poultice salve from the small satchel on his hip, "Master gave these to me... they will not be missed." He opened the small bottle, and shaking his head pulled his metal gauntlets off to lay them on the ground. "Here."

Hawke hung her head down, uncharacteristically quiet as Fenris spread herb-laden paste across the long burns down her back. She shuddered and finally said, "How about that... thanks."

Tilting his head, Fenris watched the wounds hiss and the skin slowly mend, "Before you came here, I came under her thumb a great deal more."

"Lucky me," Hawke murmured, closing her eyes.

"No one deserves it," Fenris cleared his throat, before adding, "Even a thief."

"Hah," Hawke smirked, standing up straighter as his hands dipped along her spine, a light touch that kept pressure from the mending wounds. She sighed out, his fingers smearing excess salve around the curve of her waist. "No fealty for her then?"

"No," Fenris furrowed his brow, watching his caress.

"Thanks..." Hawke turned around, and it took a moment for his eyes to turn up, before he glanced away again. She caught him by the wrist though, and he met her gaze with an arched brow. "Want to have some fun that doesn't involve swords? Well, not metal ones ... though it might constitute wood, hmm."

"I.. I am not certain that is wise," Fenris replied, glancing down to her hand.

Hawke moved to pick up the cloth again, before wiping a spatter of blood from his neck, "All that blood, so very fetching."

Fenris chuckled once, shaking his head, "Maybe you've been around our Masters too long now."

"Is that humour?" Hawke said, narrowing her eyes at him, before looking down and turning over his hand to wash more of the blood away. He tensed under the cloth. "Wouldn't have thought you'd have it in you."

"It is not something our Master desires," Fenris said with plodding uncertainty. When she took his other hand to wipe the blood and grime away, his eyes fell along the curve of her musculature. "What did you have in mind?"

"Danarius is angry at you," Hawke said, smirking as she saw his cheek twitch at the slip. "And I've learnt Hadriana is rather possessive." She put the cloth back in the bowl behind her as she took his hand, and drew it to her hip, "And I imagine those lips have kissed Anders."  
"I-" Fenris words were cut away as Hawke sealed his lips with her own, and he stiffened as she pulled the neck of his vest. Her other hand was in his hair before he could breath, and his lips parted without a further thought. The tension in his chest squeezed his breath, and he groaned to lean into her.

It was scarce a moment before Hawke's hands sought the ties of his pliable armour, and Fenris tensed as she near ripped it open and let her fingers trace down the musculature of his chest. They kissed still, and his heartbeat grew in his throat, a faint colour over the bridge of his nose as she drew him towards the bed.

"If our Master-" he tried to say, closing his eyes as she bit into his neck.

"It doesn't excite you?" Hawke breathed into his neck, lips by his ear. Fenris plied his hands around her waist, dragging over the skin until their chests pressed together. He shivered as she continued, "An unlocked door our only cover. But to get away with it... to have something they cannot touch. Something she cannot know."

Fenris made a slight sound, before cupping her neck and kissing her more earnestly in reply. Their lips played as Hawke's thumbs trailed the waist of his leathery trousers, and he groaned as she gripped his ass. She stopped abruptly as she hit the bed, and it was only his embrace that kept her falling backward.

"May I take them off?" Hawke whispered against his lips, his rough fingers down her spine.

Eyes swimming, Fenris bumped noses with her, a hair's breadth between their lips as he said, "I - yes."

Hawke's eyes sparkled as she climbed up on the bed, shucking her breast band and smallclothes. She threw them his way, and Fenris' expression cracked.

Laughing briefly, he caught the undergarment against his growing arousal, looking at it as he murmured, "And here I thought you..."

"Meant your pants?" Hawke offered, sitting up on her elbows. She wiggled her foot at him.

"Mmm," Fenris smirked and shook his head, looking down as he slipped the leather over his ass with odd modesty. Why did it suddenly seem to matter? They had both seen more than their share of the other naked. He put a knee on the bed and leaned over her, dipping to kiss the inside of her knee, and Hawke choked on a laugh. He tilted his head, looking up at her, "Ticklish? I would have never imagined..."

"That's not fair," Hawke hissed, clamping a hand over her mouth as he grabbed her calf and tickled up her inner thigh with his lips and nose. She stifled her laughter, coughing to try and stop. His expression softened as he shifted higher up her thigh, and his fingers trailed more earnestly as he breathed in the scent of her. Tracing her toes up his hip and waist, she laid back, tensing as he kissed the nest of soft curls between her legs, "Here I thought you didn't like women..."

Fenris hesitated, furrowing his brow as he lifted his lips from her stomach, "I don't..."

"Oh, my mistake then," Hawke said in a breath as his fingers felt over her curves. She rolled slightly, choking another laugh as he tickled her abdomen with her nose.

Glancing up the hillscape of her body, Fenris settled onto the bed more, his thighs tangled with her calves. He tucked his hardened member down against her thigh, and kept his eyes down as he kissed her naval, "Hadriana... is the only woman I can ever recall being intimate with."

Hawke reach down to massage her fingers over his scalp, messing up Fenris' hair as he inspected her skin with his fingers once more. He followed the scarring on her thighs, the ghost of a laceration on her abdomen, until finally the fingertips swirled up her breast. Her hand tightened in his hair as he leant up to take her breast in his mouth, and she spoke in a soft gasp, "I hope I improve the opinion of my gender at least a little?"

"A little," Fenris chuckled, catching her nipple in his teeth. "Perhaps. We'll see."

"Oh - ah!" Hawke bit her lips shut and glared down at him, unable to keep from smiling though. His teeth were pulling her nipple to the extreme, and when he caught her gaze, Fenris advanced her up body to kiss her. She knotted her fingers in his hair, letting their bodies roll together as he teased his hips against hers. She used the grip to try and flip him, but he caught her shoulder.

Hawke almost grinned as he leaned into her, vying for dominance a moment - like in the courtyard when they sparred. The shadow in Fenris' expression evaporated, and he met her eyes, shaking his head as he sat up, taking her nipple and giving it a sharp twist. Her mouth dropped open and only a squeak escaped, and in response she snatched his nipple and did the same.

"Hey," he twisted, leaning into her thigh. Hawke caught his bicep and pulled him back in, their bodies pressing together as she stole a kiss, tongue searching and twisting to make him groan. The heated length of his shaft pressed against her thigh, and with a casual touch, she urged him against the wet lips of her sex. Wrapping her leg around his thigh, Hawke bit at his bottom lip and arched up, prompting Fenris to tug his hips and fill her.

The heady groan in Hawke's throat muffled into Fenris lips, and her hand ran up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair as they rolled together. His own arm cradled her head in turn as they kissed, creating an intimate canopy to their stolen little world. Her sighs stirred his thrusts, meeting the undulating rhythm of her hips that quickened their breathing and brought sweat to their skin.

Hawke let her head fall back in the cradle of his arm, softly gasping for breath as they ground together. Fenris' hand snaked around her thigh, gripping the curvature of her ass as he thrust in, and her breath trembled as he angled his hips. Her mouth fell open, and as though it were an invitation, the elf's lips soon smothered hers, and she groaned again, breasts pressed against his sculpted abs as he filled her.

"This - this is alright?" he gasped into her neck as their hips ground together.

Hawke's fingers dragged up his back as her spine curved, and twining her legs with his, pulled him deeper with the gyration of her hips. "Yes," she gasped, kissing his neck, "Maker, yes..."

Fenris' eyes rolled closed as her lips snagged his earlobe, and he cradled her head against him, skin sticking as his pace grew. He grabbed the bedsheets beneath her for leverage, backside tensing to thrust deep, slick cock throbbing as Hawke tensed in return. For a moment it seemed too much - but when she cried out, it brought with it a tension in all her limbs, and within too.

Eyes tight, Hawke let herself be swept away in the sudden rush of pleasure, melting into it as she heard Fenris choke on a cry in her neck. His grip on her intensified, and the breath shuddered in her chest as she gasped for air, numbed in the most blissful way. With a final jerk, he bowed over her, groaning deeply and enveloping her in his arms, his hips riding more slowly.

Cradling her in the crook of his elbow, Fenris kept his eyes closed as Hawke panted and ran her hands up his body. She seemed at ease with his weight over her, but finally the elf shifted on a knee to let his cock slide out with a wet softness. Her sex against his abdomen, Fenris exhaled heavily and laid his head between her breasts, listening to the hard rush of her pulse. Hawke kept her eyes closed, breathing roughly as she toyed with his hair and enjoyed the blank slate of thought.

"Think anyone heard us?" she whispered, prompting a single laugh against her breast. Hawke smiled and massaged her fingers through his hair, before the expression melted away and she sighed.

"I never would have even thought of something like this before," Fenris finally said, speaking against her skin. His hand drifted up her side, and she tensed in a tickled way. Smiling, he settled his hand over her breast, kissing the skin as he lay there.

"I try to cling to it," Hawke whispered, looking at the hair she pulled through her fingers. "Even if the idea of her finding out terrifies me. But it's something. I'm still me... right?"

Fenris made an ambiguous sound, and they lay there a while more. He shifted higher, and Hawke rolled towards him into the crook of his arm. Almost stiffly, he let his arms settle around her, as she seemed at home against him. Resting his lips in her hair, he slowly said, "I.. have seen your sister. Have you?"

"I didn't..." Hawke's words fell away, and she sunk into the bed more, a palpable tension in her limbs. "I didn't even think to. Maker... have they hurt her?"

"No," Fenris said with mild confusion.

"She - she doesn't live here, does she? Have I been so oblivious?" Hawke sat up a bit, the lazy haze in her eyes evaporating into some form of terror. "How could I miss it?"

"She does not," Fenris said, slowly sitting up as Hawke stood. He looked at his hands, "She comes to train and study at our Master's bidding."

Hawke sunk back onto the bed, putting a hand on her throat. There was a phantom in her expression. "What if she sees me? I.. I can't let her. Mistress wouldn't..."

"I don't know," Fenris dubiously replied, furrowing his brow at the unbidden flickers that sparked in his mind. There was something - a memory. It left a heat like holding your hand too close to a flame - he had felt it with Anders. He looked across the room, nervous tension churning in his stomach. He finally spoke in a whisper, "We cannot stay here."

"It's too much of a risk," Hawke murmured, eyes unfocused in the distraction of her thoughts.

"I meant Hadriana's room," Fenris amended, his voice softened. When he touched Hawke's hand, she looked at him. "We should go to the slave quarters."


	13. Sister Sister

The air pulled with heat as Bethany manipulated the Fade, and closing her hands the inferno burst to life and crashed upon the wide courtyard. It scorched the stone and left it radiating heat in evening shadows. Danarius nodded from where he watched and motioned for the next set, providing a brief instruction on its manipulation. Bethany nodded, and this time focused her power, directing a lick of flame up the limbs and torso of a straw doll, the fire snuffing in its wake to leave a zigzag pattern. Hadriana bristled from nearby.

"Beautiful," Danarius praised, nodding as he clasped his hand behind her back. "Such power and control in one your age is rare."

"Thank you, ser," Bethany replied, bowing her head.

"I am your master now, my dear," Danarius chided lightly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I will show you more than this yet, and you have the potential to become one of my greatest allies. Ensure you afford me the proper respect."

"Yes, master," Bethany replied, glancing to where a gagged Hawke was being led out of the manor by Fenris. She bit her tongue and tried to maintain her composure. She had not seen her in months.

"Good girl," Danarius said and turned to Hadriana. "Hadriana will demonstrate some of the more refined techniques of blood control. It is an area of study she has a natural aptitude for, and one that you will undoubtedly find useful."

"Yes, master," Bethany said in an empty breath, clasping her hands together as Hadriana advanced towards her sister. Hawke sank to her knees, bowing her head as Fenris retreated to Danarius' side, equally obedient in his submission to his Master.

As Hawke put her hands on the ground, Bethany held her breath, just barely twitching as Hadriana cut equal lines high on the rogue's shoulders. She could feel the palpable tension in the air as her fellow mage cut her hand, and with the right words, Hawke rose to her feet.

"A waltz," Hadriana casually said, her eyes lucid and swimming red as she moved her hands as though to manipulate a puppet.

Arms lifted with perfect poise, Hawke began to move with vacant eyes, her natural dexterity revealed in the sway of the steps. Bethany almost choked on her tongue. It was a dance their mother had taught them. They had danced together before the fire in their small home back in Ferelden – when they had been on the run. Before they had grown up, before they had gone abroad. Marian had led, and she had laughed, unable to keep from stepping on her sister's toes. Carver had rolled his eyes, and father had played his flute. She had to blink to keep the tears from forming.

"Good, and the refrain," Hadriana purred, her eyes finally turning from Hawke. "Do you feel it?"

"Yes," Bethany said under her breath, scrutinizing her sister's steps.

When Hawke's feet faltered, Hadriana advanced to hit the rogue, and the blood-bound slave scarce flinched, continuing to dance until the sadistic woman said otherwise, "Your combat forms."

Lip cracked, Hawke's eyes trembled from within their cage, and the blood ran down her chin as she settled on the balls of her feet and flowed into her hand-to-hand practise routine.

"I will leave you to it," Danarius said, beckoning to Fenris. "I will see you both at the senate tomorrow morning."

Hadriana bowed her head, and when their master was gone, glanced to Bethany with stony eyes, "Little bird, show your sister how much you adore her as another mistress. On your knees."

Hawke swung out of the roundhouse kick and fell onto her knees on the stone with a defined crack, and crawling forward, she grovelled at Bethany's feet. Her voice was a ghost, "We adore you, Mistress."

"Stop it," Bethany snapped, stomach turning as she shook her head. "Sister."

"Kiss her feet, pet," Hadriana said, scarce fazed as she crossed her arms and smirked. "Do you not appreciate her supplication, Bethany?"

Reaching out, Hawke almost grabbed one of Bethany's feet, but the woman stepped back. Undeterred and unable to resist, the rogue scrambled forward, leaning with puckered lips. Bethany's expression crushed as her sister shifted from one foot to the other, pressing her lips to the toes of her shoes.

Hands unclenching, Bethany spoke a harsh word, summoning a glyph about them that buffeted the air with a sickly twist. In the same moment, her power buoyed, but the hold on Hawke broke, and the woman gasped out, shuddering on her hands and knees.

"How dare you," Hadriana snapped, squeezing her bloodied hand close and healing it.

"I will not let you harm her," Bethany said, staring the other mage down. "Not in my presence, and not if I can help it."

"Do you think our master will be pleased to hear you have a soft spot for slaves?" Hadriana taunted, lifting her chin. A crackle of energy sparked up her arm.

"Do you want to fight me? Is that it?" Bethany asked, moving in front of her sister. "Do you think you'd win?"

Hadriana narrowed her eyes, glancing down to Hawke before she amended with sickly sweetness, "Not today." She stormed away towards the house, using the electrical charge in her arm to catch one of the slaves by the door and throw them to the ground before tramping inside.

Bethany immediately fell to her knees, almost hesitant to touch Hawke, "Sister... sweet sister."

"Mistress," Hawke replied, still trembling on the ground. Blood flowed freely from her cuts.

"No," Bethany almost welled with tears, finally grabbing Hawke and embracing her. "It's me. Want to pull my hair? That always cheered you up."

"Bethany," Hawke suddenly cried, the familiar smell of her clothes and presence breaking through to her. A panic rose in her throat, "You must let me go. I must follow her."

"Marian, what have they done to you?" Bethany choked, holding onto her sister. She turned Hawke's face up, "Please, I haven't seen you in… Maker, you don't even know."

Hawke calmed a little, and her expression cracked, "I... I'm sorry. I don't wish to, flames, listen to me." She trembled, still dazed from the blood magic. "I can't think, Bethany. I'm so sorry."

Bethany swallowed on a soft sound, shaking her head as Hawke finally hugged her. She sat back on her haunches, healing her sister's wounds, "Stop it, you don't need to apologize."

"I know, I know," Hawke huffed as she softly shook. She stayed on her knees and looked at her sister. Slowly, she sighed, and her voice cracked, "I've missed you so much. I'm sorry… no, I wish we'd found you a better magister to train under."

"Not much can be done now," Bethany said, holding Hawke's hands. She squeezed them tightly and dropped her chin, choking on emotion, "Oh Marian – I don't know what to do without you! Without mother…"

"What?" Hawke roused further from her haze, lines creasing her brow. "What is it?"

Bethany put a hand over her mouth, breathing in deeply through her nose to steel herself before she said, "She was killed in the revolt. A group of slaves they… they mistook her for someone else. A cruel magister. I cannot bear it!"

Rising on her knees to hug her sister, Hawke stared blankly across the courtyard as the numbness returned. It wasn't wholly unlike the blood magic, yet it was much worse. She turned her cheek against Bethany's head, "Don't cry, sweet sister. They cannot see you cry."

"I know," Bethany shuddered, hugging Hawke once more before she rose to her feet. She could see the elven slave near the door averting his eyes down. Wiping her eyes, she whispered, "The apartments are so empty. When I thought they couldn't be more so. Without you, she hasn't … hadn't been herself. I've tried to send word to Carver… but my letters go unanswered. I don't know think he's coming home."

Hawke nodded, thankful to be on the ground it sank in. She rested her hands on her knees and looked at her sister's legs, posture weighted. Somehow, she found strength in her words, "You can do it, Bethany. You've always been stronger than you thought – you can do it on your own. I know you can."

Bethany exhaled slowly and nodded, clasping her hands together at her abdomen as she said, "Thank you, sister. Somehow just hearing you… it helps. You and your silver tongue."

"And you, the buxom looks," Hawke wistfully replied, chancing to lift her eyes.

"It won't always be like this," Bethany whispered, furrowing her brow. "I promise."

"Thank you," Hawke replied, bowing her head again. _I wish I could believe you._ Her voice hollowed out, "We'll find a way." Her gaze fell to the stones on which she knelt, and her voice grew smaller, "I must return to… Hadriana."

Bethany nodded, touching Hawke's hair impulsively as she said, "I'll try to see you soon." As she got up and walked towards the mansion, the mage called out, "You need a hair cut."

Inside the house, Hawke hurried to Hadriana's room, and cowed down as she entered. The lady mage turned upon her immediately.

"Such tardiness is intolerable, slave," Hadriana said, and Hawke cringed as she retrieved her sapling switch. She whipped it across the rogue's nose.

"I am sorry, Mistress," Hawke took the hit, cringing her eyes closed as she looked down. "Mistress Bethany wished my presence."

"She is not your mistress!" Hadriana snapped, and the switch caught across Hawke's throat and bare arms, leaving angry red lashes behind. "On your knees and give me your arms!"

"Mistress, I did not wish to disob-" Hawke's words cut away as the switch caught her face again, and she fell to her knees. Blood fell from her cracked lips as she shuddered, swallowing her rage and lifting her arms to expose them as she knew Hadriana wished.

"Insolence," Hadriana hissed, and the nimble switch slashed Hawke's inner arms in a succession of hits. She turned and grabbed a handful of the rogue's hair, holding her to watch her expression as she whipped her arms erratically, leaving a crosshatch of bright welts. "You will not seek her out nor speak to her, you will not do as she wishes, you will not so much as look at her, unless as it is under mine or Danarius' expressed command."

"Yes, Mistress," Hawke choked, closing her eyes as she nearly hyperventilated at the sharp pain, clenching her teeth as her arms took more abuse.


	14. Strong Hands

"For what it is worth, I am sorry about your mother," Fenris quietly said as they remained on watch outside of the caravan. They were travelling up coast at Danarius' behest, with Bethany in tow. There was a mage tower where the Fade was weak - where they researched it - and Hawke had a target in the town. Danarius' reasons for the trip were unknown.

"Thank you," Hawke emptily replied, her eyes on the ground. It had been a week since the day in the courtyard.

Looking into the growing dark, Fenris hesitated before saying, "They say death is only a journey... does that help?"

"I don't know," Hawke said, shrugging before nudging him. "But thanks."

They stood in silence as the shadows deepened, and Hawke looked over the jagged hills and dry skies. Winter was gathering - whatever winter was in this country. She could run and they couldn't stop her. She would be free, would she even be worth tracking? Across the plains and through Nevarra, what would anyone care if she made it that far? They wouldn't know the scarred brand on her chest. She could be a person again.

"She needs me," Hawke finally whispered.

"Hadriana?" Fenris said with mild disdain.

"No, you idiot," Hawke almost smiled, but the expression was lost. "Bethany. I just want to be near her. I know how I feel, but she and mother..." She choked her mouth closed, closing her eyes before she more quietly said, "They were always closer."

Fenris pressed his lips into a line, standing alongside her, "It is not wise to defy your Mistress."

"You say that like I don't know," Hawke smirked and glanced at him. "You haven't seen the latest marks."

"Ones she has bestowed in delight," Fenris emptily replied. "For pleasure."

Hawke shuddered and crossed her arms, looking into the night as a flush rose on her cheeks.

"It's alright," he said more softly, leaning so their upper arms touched.

"It hasn't been in a long time," Hawke quietly snapped, putting her hands on her daggers and taking a step away from him.

"Fenris?" Bethany appeared at the tent flap, and they both looked at her. "Master Danarius wishes your presence."

Glancing to Hawke, Fenris bowed his head and followed Bethany back into the tent erected against the outer wall of the caravan, leaving the rogue in the dark.

"Come here, pet," Danarius said from where he sat, and his offered hand was soon above the elf's head. He smiled thinly, caressing Fenris' pale hair before trailing a finger down his ear. The kneeling man shivered and tucked his chin lower.

"You wished me, Master?"

"In a manner of speaking," Danarius replied. Bethany moved across from them to settle into her cot, removing her shoes and keeping her eyes distracted. "Take care of Bethany's feet."

Crawling towards her without further encouragement, Fenris reached for one of Bethany's feet, taking it up to firmly run his thumb up the underside.

"It is really unnec-" Bethany twitched a bit at the touch, blushing as she glanced from the elf massaging her foot to Danarius. "Unnecessary, master. You are too kind."

"He has strong hands," Danarius simply said, picking up the skein of wine beside him to take a drink. His voice was tempered steel, "Useful for many things. It has been a long day, and you deserve to unwind."

Fenris kissed the top of her foot before his warrior's fingers began to work along the muscles. Bethany watched as he kept his eyes down, before glancing to Danarius. The magister's eyes were upon her, and he rose as she slouched in the cot and let the elf massage her feet and calves.

"I can only imagine the weight of your mother's death upon you, my dear," Danarius said as he walked to her side. "And to have lost your only sister to crime - it is unfair that such a radiant young woman such as yourself need to go through so much."

"Thank you, ser," Bethany answered, looking aside as Fenris' lips found her calf, tongue following in a swirl to the back of her knee before his strong hands continued their work.

"The forum was quite pleased with your work," Danarius said, drawing a length of red cloth from his wrist. "But you are too conservative. You must move beyond such reservations. Something my little wolf will help you with."

"Master, I-" Bethany's words fell away as she bit her lip, the blindfold wiping the world away. He tied it at the back of her head.

"Yes, pet, that is wonderful," Danarius coolly said, brushing his fingers over her hair.

Fenris moved up her body, his mouth and tongue lavishing her skin, lapping soft kisses and tasting the salty nooks where sweat gathered. Bethany's breath clipped away as he suckled and moved, blushing darkly as he tugged her robes open. She turned her head, the movement heavy under Danarius' hand upon her brow.

"It is easier this way," he said to her in a fatherly way. "I almost think to restrain you, but something tells me you will give in. Unless that is what you wish? To be given no choice like your sister?"

Bethany made to respond, but Fenris' fingers slipped into her sex, and she cried out in soft surprise, the apples of her cheek burning red. Danarius' hands fell upon her shoulders as she tensed and shook her head, the flick of the elf's fingers sparking a fire in her. The magister's eyes stayed upon Fenris, watching the branded man dip forward to close his mouth over the nub atop her sex.

Danarius let Bethany fall back on the cot, licking his lips as he said, "Perhaps."

Gripping the edge of the flimsy cot, Bethany arched as Fenris' tongue flecked over her clit, breath catching at the invasive delight. Blind to the act, her senses focused into her body, where his fingers buried and wiggled to urge her pulse faster. She'd seen the things he'd done, the people the elf had been with, could she even react - her body reacted without thought, and a soft moan hushed her thoughts as she blushed darker.

"You are hard, Fenris," Danarius hushed from where he'd gone to kneel behind Fenris, running his hand up tight pants over the elf's loins. "Do you enjoy this?"

Breath over Bethany's slit, Fenris lapped his lips before murmuring, "If you wish me to, Master."

Danarius clutched a handful of Fenris' pale hair as he caressed the pent hard-on, before running his fingers around to urge down the waist of his pants and leave it about his knees on the ground. The mage pulled his own robes off to grease his cock and press the head against the sculpted cheeks of his ass. "Tell me, Bethany - have you ever been with a man?"

"I-" Bethany's voice clipped as she rolled her hips, Fenris' tongue finding her clit again as he fingered her. She struggled with the erratic flub of her pulse, "A couple, master."

"Women?" the magister casually asked, watching the shudder down his elf's spine as he teased his cock down against the wrinkled pucker of his anus.

"No, ser," Bethany whimpered, Fenris' pace faltering as he looked up the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. "I - I never wished..."

"Would you like him to fuck you, dear?" Danarius purred, exhaling as he let the head of his member rest right against the tight entrance. Fenris pressed his forehead to the soft down of curls guarding Bethany's sex, fingering her slowly, his free hand over her thigh and abdomen, feeling the tensile writhe of her pleasure and shame.

"I..." Bethany's thoughts wavered, sluggish in the torrent of sensation welling through her loins. The cot shifted as she moved, urging her hips into his hand, and she could scarce respond as her senses effaced even more.

"It would please me greatly," Danarius replied, and Fenris' groan muffled into Bethany's sex as the mage urged his hips forward, nudging the head of his cock into the elf's ass for only a moment. "For him to pleasure you. You deserve this, there is no need to conceal your desire."

"I... I am not..." Bethany's words fell away as she writhed again, Fenris' agile fingers hitting that spot deep within her and making it difficult to think.

When she groaned deeply, Danarius chuckled, running his hand up the back of Fenris' neck to grip his hair and hold the elf's face on Bethany's loins. "There is pleasure enough. You are ever eager to please me, little wolf." With the last of his words, the magister eased his hips forward, filling Fenris's backside and making him falter in his cunning arts. "Melt her in your mouth, pet."

Fenris ran his free hand up Bethany's leg, pinning it back against the cot and steadying himself as Danarius flowed into a hard pace that jerked his body with each penetrating thrust. Panting against her sex, he pushed his fingers deep, tilting up to wiggle and stroke as his tongue flowed over the hardened little man in the boat.

Blind behind the cloth, Bethany gasped hard, tensing her leg against Fenris' hand as he pleasured her. The smack of their bodies together filled her ears, renewing the blush on her cheeks as her pulse throbbed in her loins. When the elf closed his mouth over her clit, the bubble burst, and the undulating motion of his fingers forced her over the edge. The pleasure bled to her fingertips, leaving a wake of numbness behind as she gyrated with the rhythm of his mouth against her sex.

Danarius grinned wickedly and tightened his fingers in Fenris' hair, using it as leverage to drive into his ass. He looked down, watching the blur of his thrusts into that tight passage. Closing his eyes, the magister listened to the young woman's pants as she came down, the muffled groans of his slave against her sex, and shaking his head, he dug his fingers into Fenris' hip and violated him at a more frantic pace.

Bethany gripped her knees, lying limp on the cot as she gasped for air, blushed darkly as Fenris pulled his fingers out, his breath hot and hard against her swollen wet nether lips. When the magister cried out, she squeezed her eyes closed beneath the blindfold, listening to their voices meld and respond as the pleasure devolved.

Softly trembling, Fenris pressed his forehead against Bethany's inner thigh for stability, feeling his master's thrusts slow and slick in the spent seed in his backside. His cock throbbed, untouched and hard between his legs.

"Good boy," Danarius cooed, letting go of the elf's hair and caressing down his back as he pulled out and sank on his haunches. "Come."

Turning around with defined lethargy, Fenris' placed his hand on Danarius' thigh, fingers wrinkled from Bethany's sex. Bending down, he swallowed the man's cock to clean off the spunk.

Meanwhile, outside the tent, Hawke clenched her hands, nails digging into her palms as she crouched on watch. Staring into the darkness, she listened to their softening pants and quiet breaths, pulse in her ears.


	15. Three's Company

Anders frowned and knelt down, keeping a steadying hand on Fenris' shoulder as he stitched the laceration together. He had to stop and blot the wound with a cloth as it bled, before he tightened the tourniquet. "I'm sorry, I don't have the mana right now."

"I understand," Fenris said as he looked away, gritting his teeth as the needle pulled him together. "The collar."

"Yes," Anders replied, finishing the suture and cutting the thread before taking up a salve. When he smeared it over the raised line of thread, it hissed and Fenris softly cursed. "Just a few days, then I can take them out. I'll heal it better later."

"Thank you," Fenris quietly said, staying on the bench as Anders got up. They were in the room Danarius had renovated for the possessed mage to work in. "…have you spoken with Marian recently? Or her sister?"

"No," Anders said under his breath, rinsing the bloodied cloths in a basin.

"Her mother was murdered in the revolt," Fenris said, looking at the stitches.

The edge of the basin clinked as Anders dropped his hand, and he looked back, "Leandra? She's dead?"

"I apologize, I hadn't realized you were close," Fenris got up and retrieved his vest, gingerly putting it back on.

"I wouldn't say that," Anders quietly said, shaking his head. He looked at the reddened water, before pulling out the cloth and hanging it to dry. Thoughts churning, he tentatively asked, "Will you help me, Fenris?"

"That depends," the elf replied with a smirk.

"Help me see her," Anders asked, glancing towards the door. "I… I need to."

"If Master learns that you went to the slave quarters, he will not be kind," Fenris quipped, a ghost in his eyes. "To either of us."

"I just keep caving to him," Anders said, pacing across the room, "Like it will do any good. When I should be trying harder. When there should be more I could be doing!"

"I… I may be able to convince the other slaves to stay quiet," Fenris said, his voice stilted. When Anders looked back at him, a light flush rose on his nose. "I cannot protect you from Master, though."

"I would never ask you to, Fenris," Anders said. "Maker knows, Danarius tries to get you killed enough."

"He will be resting from our journey," Fenris quietly said. "And he did not allow Hadriana to take Marian."

"I almost..." Anders sighed, leaning onto the windowsill and looking into the courtyard. "Andraste's tits, what is wrong with me."

"Come on," Fenris sighed, walking towards the door. He peered down the hallway. "Most of them will be busy with their after dinner duties."

Keeping to the walls, Fenris lead them down to the slave quarters, and the elves there stopped in the middle of their meal as he and Anders entered. They stared at them in obvious surprise. One of the elders rose.

"Papa," Orana said cautiously, shrinking back into her chair under his reproachful gaze.

"He is not allowed here," the aged elf replied, motioning to Anders. "I cannot permit it."

"You will," Fenris replied, stepping forward and clenching his hand into a fist. The glow lit under his skin, showing through his clothing. He glanced between the elves there, and some of them skirted farther away, "Or you will deal with me."

"Please," Veyena said from where she stood by the door to their sleeping quarters, "Master will hurt us."

Bristling against the hesitation in his chest, Fenris swallowed and raised his hand, the brands on his skin flared bright, lighting up the room, "I will hurt you if any of you speak of this."

"You wouldn't," the elder replied, putting an arm against Orana.

"Who do you think our Master will believe should something go awry - you or me?" Fenris said, motioning towards the sleeping quarters. "We're going to see her, and none of you will say anything to Master or Mistress Hadriana."

"We just want to see Marian, you don't have to tell them," Anders insisted, furrowing his brow as he reached for Fenris' shoulder. "Just look the other way. We are all in this together, and that is how we will get out of it."

"You are playing with our lives," the elder said, shaking his head.

"A half hour," Anders said, glancing to where Fenris opened the door. "Please."

"Leave," Fenris plainly said to a pair of elves in the sleeping quarters. Hawke looked up from the cot on which she lay.

"You... Anders," Hawke's eyes went wide as Fenris shut the door. She cowered a bit on the bed, "What is happening?"

"I needed to see you," Anders blurted, before adding, "I heard about your mother."

"All this for little old me..." Hawke said, slowly standing. It finally kicked in and she took the steps to him, throwing herself in his arms. "You're really here, Maker, not just some fantasy between the sheets. Fenris..." she stepped back, glancing between Anders and the elf, "You helped him."

"He wished to see you," Fenris quietly said, lingering by the door.

"I'm so sorry about your mother, Marian," Anders said, rubbing his thumb over Hawke's cheek.

"I don't know if it was easier just blocking it all out," Hawke said, looking back to Anders. She put a hand over her eyes, dryly laughing, "What I wouldn't give just to get drunk."

Anders clasped her neck and pulled her up into his lips, cutting off whatever smart remark was on its way, and she exhaled out sharply. Closing her eyes, Hawke tangled her fingers up into his hair, deepening the kiss before they pressed their foreheads together.

"Get me drunk in another way. Help me forget this place and all that's happened," Hawke whispered, bumping their noses together. "Show me it's still my body and not hers. Show me I'm still me."

Brushing her hair back from her face, Anders kissed Hawke quickly, tilting into her lips and shadowing her from Fenris. She whimpered softly, wanton in the kiss, and when his hands ran down her arms and tangled in the meagre cloth on her hips, she swayed closer to him. Hawke broke the kiss to pull back, a steadying hand on his chest. When she turned, they both looked to the elf.

"Fenris," she quietly said. "You've risked a lot for this."

"I am well aware of that," he smirked, glancing askance.

Hawke's eyes flickered to Anders before she quietly said, "Then come help. Might as well enjoy yourself for the danger you've put yourself in."

"I..." Fenris hesitated with both their eyes upon him. Anders was coiling his finger into Hawke's dark hair. Closing his eyes, the elf adjusted his hips, looking down as he murmured, "It is best I keep watch. Perhaps another time."

"I hope so," Anders smirked.

"Are you sure?" Hawke asked, gathering up Anders' robes as she spoke.

"Like I said," Fenris replied, wetting his lips. "I'll watch."

When she had the robes off, Hawke closed her eyes and pressed her face against Anders' chest, running her hands down his hips and ass. She kissed his skin, dragging her lips and suckling with each affection, and he closed his eyes as she moved into his neck.

"I miss the smell of you," Hawke whispered, lifting her arms as he pulled her tunic off to leave them in their smalls.

Anders kneaded her upper arms in reply, kissing her again with greater zeal, their breathing following the growing pace of need. Hawke's hands slipped around his hips, pushing down his smalls and wrapping around his arousal. When he moaned into her mouth, Fenris leant back more heavily against the door, pulse in his own aching loins.

When Anders caught his thumbs in her smalls, Hawke pushed him back towards the low cot, stepping out of the last bit of cloth before easing down in his lap. Their kissing smacked softly, edged by soft pants and whimpers of desire and need. Straddling him, Hawke ground their loins together, hand on his cheek to keep his gaze as she grew wetter, tilting her hips to slick her nether lips up the underside of his cock, and drawing a heady moan.

Fenris swallowed thickly, his thoughts plodding as he watched them together. The apprehension inside at disobeying his Master mingled with the stoked lust, and he adjusted his pent hard-on as Hawke dipped along Anders' body, kissing and suckling pink marks over his skin and making him sigh. When her lips found the reddened, wet tip of the mage's cock, it was too much, and he rubbed a hand over his own arousal.

"Marian," Anders panted, arching and urging his shaft into her waiting lips. "Ohhh Maker, Marian."

Closing her eyes, Hawke ran her hand over Anders' abdomen, a thrill welling inside at her name on his lips. Her name, not pet or little anything, just Marian, the woman he wanted. When her tongue pressed down the underside of his shaft, he groaned again, unable to keep his hips from rising to nearly gag her on the cock. She took it, mmm-ing into a hum that made him shiver, and her tongue swirled as her head rose.

"Fuck me," he gasped, shuddering as she toyed her tongue over the head and suckled it to chase away his thoughts. "Please, agghh, Andraste's tits Marian, fuck me."

Plucking her mouth off his shaft, Hawke ascended his body with easy agility, and nestled her thighs against his as she held the head of his cock against her sex. She rubbed it there, watching his features with obvious delight, "Hard? Fast?"  
"Anything," Anders panted, reaching for her neck and pulling her down into his lips.

Fenris heartbeat leapt, his eyes upon their lips. Swallowing the insistent pulse in his throat, he blinked lengthily, running his hand up his pent member once more before hearing them moan. Hand in the front of his tight pants, he looked through half-lidded eyes at the pair, seeing Anders' hands around Hawke's neck as their hips sunk flush together. When the woman moved, Fenris' hand did too, a slow stroke to mimic the gyration of her hips.

Rising up, Hawke planted her hands on Anders' chest, his own hands falling down over her breasts and waist, leaving reddened lines where he pressed in. She looked upon him, her dark hair mussed about her cheeks as she moved, pulling him deep as she gasped for breath. She sat up straighter, using his arms for balance, and her gaze swung towards the subtle motion by the door. Seeing Fenris stroking his own cock hard, Hawke snagged Anders' nipple and roughly pinched it, drawing his eyes open with a little yelp of surprise.

Fenris lifted his head, and a blush rose over his cheeks as he saw them both staring at him. Hawke kept her slow pace, eyes dragging up from his loins to his face, and when she tilted her head as she drew out the thrusts of her body upon Anders' cock, Fenris almost unconsciously matched it.

"Do you need to stay at the door?" Hawke murmured, her voice heady and low. There was a flush on her cheeks as she ran her hands up Anders' chest, leaning forward into his neck to kiss and bite the skin. The mage arched into her, a groan in his throat as he met Fenris' eyes. Hawke bit again, enough to leave a mark, before sitting up and reaching toward the door. "You should be here."

Shuddering heavily as his grip tightened, Fenris tilted his head to watch them slowly fuck, "I…" Their eyes fell away from him as Hawke leaned back, putting her hands on Ander's thighs as he reached for her clit and made her gasp and shudder.

He could think of the nights spent listening to Anders speak, not wholly understanding, but listening to the world he made with his memories and dreams. Of shaking the shackled mage awake when he trembled from the nightmares. Of sweet kisses granted when Fenris snuck to watch him work in the library – when it wasn't even what Master wished.

She had made something come to life inside him – made him think of himself at all. Beyond that pedestal upon which Master – no, Danarius – stood looking down upon them. Teaching him to look away, to meet her eyes, to smile because it was what he felt, rather than swallow any emotion. The thrill and butterflies in his belly at the novel idea to rebel.

It was a choice he could make. They didn't demand it, they didn't order or expect it without thought. He wasn't sure they ever had. The mage took the punishment bestowed, while she still bucked in the saddle. It was… freedom. The manifestation of the idea they wouldn't let go of.

Hawke's head rolled round as she heard the soft pad of his bare feet, and she opened her eyes to Fenris. The elf cupped the back of her head and met her lips in much the same moment she wrapped her hand around his hard, hot cock. Moaning into his lips, Hawke's thighs tensed, and she ground into Anders with renewed vigour, sparking as the mage plied her clit, and the branded elf claimed her mouth.

"Ohhh Maker, yes," Hawke panted when Fenris dipped into her neck, and she closed her eyes as their hands consumed her body. She squeezed his cock tighter, stroking erratically, counter to the odd rhythm with which she rode Anders.

When Fenris took a knee beside the low cot, he almost pulled from her grasp. The elf leant over Hawke's breast, taking it in hand to guide to his mouth, biting the pert nub and drawing a harsh gasp. Anders switched hands, reaching to tug Fenris cock in her stead, and their pleasured sounds devolved together. Hawke wrapped a hand around the back of Fenris' head, pulling him from her breast as she saw Anders shift. The pair nestled their foreheads together, eyes down as the mage strained to finally take Fenris' cock in his mouth. A moan rose in Fenris throat, only to be caught by Hawke as she pulled him into her lips, kissing him roughly as she bucked to grind on Anders' buried shaft.

Hawke's fingers tightened in Fenris hair, breathing erratically through her nose as they kissed, and he gripped her shoulder as he rolled his own hips to urge closer, and deeper into Ander's waiting mouth. She broke away and clutched the elf's hair, panting hard and pulling him against her neck. Lips by his ear, she panted, and kissed them, causing him to choke on his breath and jerk his hips into Anders' wet mouth a bit harder.

Their next kiss scarce lasted, as Fenris gripped Hawke's hip in one hand, and a clutch of Anders' blond hair in the other. Steadying himself, his head dropped down to rest in her breasts, her hands in his hair as she rode into a frenetic pace. Her fingers were pulling his hair, but he was lost to the sounds of their bodies and pleasure, and Hawke clutched him as she cried out. Quickly muffling herself in his hair, she shuddered and moved with the undulation of Anders hips in reply.

Trembling roughly as the divine ebb of numbness washed through her, Hawke pulled Fenris back to her, kissing him and grinding down hard on Anders cock. The man beneath her choked on his moan as much as the elf's cock, rolling his hips up as his hand left her sex to catch her hip. Leaving an arm around Fenris' neck, Hawke panted by his ear, holding him steady as his buttocks tensed to more eagerly fuck Anders' mouth.

"I want to hear you so badly," Hawke panted, breasts and limbs rocked with the force of thrusts as she planted her foot, steadying her weight against Anders. She blinked her eyes closed as Fenris moaned.

"Marian," Fenris breathed in a hush, hand tightening in Anders' hair. When he turned his head, she caught his ear, and the flush on his cheeks deepened as he looked down on the mage. He twitched as the man opened his eyes, and the elf softly huffed, "Ahhggh, Anders, I –" The words cut away when Hawke's tongue lavished his ear, pushing him over the edge and filling Anders' mouth with his seed.

Hawke's hand ruffled through Fenris' pale hair, shivering as he jerked and shuddered in her arm. When he pulled away, she dragged her fingers over his cheek before falling forward onto Anders and kissing him with ragged need. The mage dug his fingers into her hips, gripping her as he arced and wound tighter. When she broke away with a moan and buried her mouth in his neck, he choked on the rush of pleasure, pulling her down on his cock to pin her as he writhed and burst.

Soon they lay there panting, entangled together and hot with sweat. Fenris looked in his lap, expression lost to some inner thought – some demon that lurked at his door.

"We cannot stay," Fenris gravelly said, tensing his fingers into a loose fist.

"I know," Anders huffed softly, dropping his hand over one of the elf's, keeping the other around Hawke.

Hawke slowly sat up, skin plucking as it unstuck from Anders' chest. She reached for Fenris, but the elf was already moving as she whispered, "Thank you... thank you so much. More than just a fuck, you made me feel like a person."

"I have a plan, Marian, I… I am getting close. I'll speak with your sister," Anders said, cupping her cheeks and drawing her close. They laid forehead to forehead a moment as Fenris turned away and tucked himself back in his trousers. "I promise we'll be free."

"We cannot linger any longer," Fenris said, tucking his chin down. "Master cannot know."

Hawke shuffled off as Anders stood, and she sat naked on the sagging cot and watched him pull on his robe. There was colour on her cheeks and a light in her eyes. "I love you," she impulsively said, before catching Fenris' gaze. "And I'm glad you were here."

"I… yes," Fenris looked away again, as Anders ducked and touched her cheek.

"I love you," Anders whispered against her lips. "Don't let your light go out."


	16. Surrender

Hawke skirted backwards and raised her arm to deflect the sweep of Fenris' sword, barely keeping it from hitting her. The force of the blow knocked her down to a knee, and she stopped the follow through with her face. Spitting blood, she rolled aside, before jabbing her foot in the crook of his knee and knocking him away to recover.

"By the Void, Fenris," Hawke said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "What the bloody fuck is up with you today?"

"We are to train," Fenris flatly said, engaging her in an exchange of blows again. The sky was clear and a cool breeze was carrying in from the harbour, the first hint of winter.

"Yes, I am well aware of that," Hawke murmured amidst her hard breaths, muscles tensing as they fought. "Here I had been under the illusion we might be under at least mildly good terms now."

Fenris huffed and broke his stance, stalking away and letting his wooden broadsword hang down. He didn't meet her gaze as he simply said, "Again."

Shaking her head, Hawke entered into another series of forms, fluidly avoiding or deflecting his swipes before catching him in the kidneys with a precise jab. Fenris cough and was out of her way in a second, his body illuminated bright and ghostly to avoid her.

"Now you're just cheating," Hawke smirked, poised on her toes as he spun around to look at her.

"I can't do this," he said, suddenly choking on his words as he paced the edge of the ring. His knuckles whitened on the sword. "The other night, it…I can't."

"I don't understand," Hawke murmured, beckoning him back to fight her as she glanced to the courtyard doors. They were grappling again, panting with exertion by the time she finally asked, "Tell me? Or do I have to kiss you?"

"Not here," he hissed, a phantom in his eyes. They traded blows, and Fenris directed her deeper in the courtyard before catching her shin. As Hawke swore loudly and hopped to try and swallow the pain, he said, "I… I remembered something."

"How to split my shins?" Hawke asked, putting a hand to the blood. "Damn it – very well done then, ser."

"No," Fenris said, running a hand back through his hair as he bristled. His voice cracked, "About my life before all this. When… when we were together with Anders… it was like for a moment, it all was. That I knew everything, that I could remember everything."

Hawke straightened up, letting the broken skin weep red as she looked at him, "What was it?"

"That's just it, Marian," Fenris murmured, and he threw his sword down. "It was there, and then it was gone again. Like being shown the gates of the Golden City, only to have it ripped away from me. I… I just… I can't."

"Fenris, but what if you remember mo-"

He turned on her in a snap, and when she went to deflect with the wood dagger, he caught it, his brands flaring, "Do you know what pain it caused?"

"Was it really so terrible? Were we?" Hawke's voice cracked.

Fenris made a frustrated sound, turning away to recover his sword as he croaked, "No… no, the farthest thing from it."  
The doors to the courtyard opened and Fenris turned immediately. Upon seeing Danarius entreat to the side of their practise ring, the elf hurried on heavy steps to prostrate on his knees before the magister. Hawke faltered but followed, finding her place on her knees as the mage crossed his arms and looked down upon them.

"Well enough," Danarius quietly said, staring Hawke down. His expression was difficult to read. He caressed Fenris' pale hair before turning away and saying, "Fenris, come."

Hawke only rose some time after they had disappeared into the mansion, ensuring the Master of the house would not be waiting for her. She retrieved Fenris' waster and put the practise weapons away, before treading inside on light feet. Best she get out of her armour. It was then she saw Bethany in the front hall. She hurried towards the two-storied room, glancing about before she hurriedly whispered, "Bethany!"

"Sister," the mage whispered, before doing a double take about the hall. She spoke more firmly, "Come with me."

Hurrying into an adjacent room, Bethany shut the door behind them before Hawke embraced her tightly. The mage sighed, squeezing her tight before stepping back, "I'm glad to see you well."

A weight sunk in Hawke's eyes as she took her sister's hands, "And you. I worry about you."

"Me?" Bethany glanced down, almost laughing, "I am not the one enslaved, dear sister."

"Maybe that makes it easier," Hawke quietly said. "Tell me you've spoke with Anders?"

"We speak some," Bethany said, before shaking her head. "I cannot imagine… why though?"

"You're both bright, intelligent people on whom my freedom entirely depends?" Hawke weakly smiled, and Bethany did too.

"Imagine if Carver could hear you," Bethany sadly said. She sighed as Hawke pulled her into her arms again, "I've been doing my best to study law as well. To see if there are any loopholes with which I might free either of you. It is very complex… and you… you are not a mage, so there is less to protect you."

"That doesn't matter," Hawke said, touching her sister's cheek. "As long as you're alright. I worry about… how Danarius treats you."

"How he treats me?" Bethany asked, astonished. "I am his pet pupil, Hadriana might as well be shooting fire at me with her eyes. Nevermind me, Marian, you…" Her voice trailed off as she choked on her words, putting a hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry. It is difficult to see you here in this place."

"I'm sorry," Hawke replied, hugging her again with a sigh. "Would you prefer I stay away?"

"No, no, Maker no," Bethany waved a hand.

A door slammed in the main hall, its thud quiet compared to the raised voice that followed. Hawke paled and froze with Bethany in her arms.

"You – you should go," Bethany's expression hardened as she held her sister at arm's length.

"Hadriana is looking for me," Hawke said, touching foreheads with her sister. Her heart was a rabbit's suddenly, when did she become so weak? The flickered memories of weeping wounds and mental cages only made it worse. "I am sorry I cannot take care of you."

"We'll take care of ourselves," Bethany hurriedly said.

There was another call and the shatter of glass, and Hawke nearly jumped as she jerked out of Bethany's arms. She met her sister's eyes once more before opening the door and hurrying out into the foyer, just in time to see Hadriana's switch smack across the face of one of the elven servants.

"You – you were to come to me when your training had finished," Hadriana coldly said, advancing on Hawke. The rogue involuntarily fell to her knees, prostrating and offering her hands to her mistress.

"I was coming, Mistress, I would not keep you waiting," Hawke said, her voice small as the switch came down on her hands, before clipping her cheek.

"How dare yo – Bethany." The name dripped from Hadriana's lips.

The younger mage stepped into the hall and inclined her head, clasping her hands together.

"What were you doing with this slave?"

"I required her assistance," Bethany said, a slight waver in her voice.

Posture growing rigid, Hadriana's lower jaw hardened, and she didn't look as she commanded, "You will report to my room, slave. Immediately."

* * *

"Bring her," Danarius simply said, and Fenris bowed his head before turning to escape into the hallway.

When Fenris opened the door to Hadriana's room, Hawke immediately fell to her knees, palms down on the floor. He shifted his weight and advanced forward, and the woman slowly lifted her chin.

"Fenris," she said with obvious relief, "It's just you. Maker, she's left me in here all day, I-"

"You must come," he cut her off, before swallowing thickly. "Remove your clothing and give me your hands."

Hawke blanched and shook her head, "I just wanted to see Bethany. Isn't that what you'd do? Wouldn't you need to see your little sister? I need to look after her, Fenris!"

"Please," Fenris said under his breath, looking back at the door. "Just come."

Turning away, Hawke stripped what little clothing she wore off, folding them before placing them on a mat on the floor beside Hadriana's bed. Naked as the day the Maker made her, she looked Fenris in the face and extended her arms. "Where are you going to take me?"

"To our masters," Fenris replied as he uncoiled the rope in his hand. He pressed her palms together, linking the rope about her thumb before intricately winding it around her arms, until she was bound to the elbow. He neatly knotted it and hid the ends within the bonds. "In the ballroom."

"I'm sorry if I've hurt you," Hawke quietly blurted as Fenris turned, and the man hesitated, before motioning out the door. He placed a hand on the back of her neck to guide her down the stairs and into the wide room where Danarius sat, flanked by Hadriana and Bethany. Anders knelt at his heel, and to the side many of the elven slaves knelt, waiting. Their eyes silently turned to her.

"I had begun to think you had embraced your role in my household," Danarius said, his voice hard in the wide space. "Your continued disobedience will not be tolerated."

"I am sorry, Master," Hawke said before she could think, looking down as Fenris led her towards a familiar contraption. Hadriana approached to snatch her bound arms.

"Words are easily spoken," Danarius said, dropping a hand on Fenris' head as the elf came to kneel opposite Anders. "Your body will show us if you truly mean them."

Hawke nearly trembled as Hadriana took her arms and strung up the deliberate loop left between her hands. Soon the rogue was pulled to the tips of her toes, twirling now and then as she struggled to find any footing.

"I thought better of you," Hadriana whispered in a hiss, fingers digging into Hawke's arm to stop her from moving. The lady mage quietly seethed, "You were not to see her. And to learn of what happened in the slave quarters. With them."

A cloth gag cut off Hawke's reply, and the rogue spun again as Hadriana stepped away. The lady mage lifted her hands and the Fade responded, a sickly magenta light misting Hawke's body as the spell took. Suddenly, the bite of the rope in her skin became thistle and barbs, and when she tried to catch her swaying weight, a weakness bled through her limbs. Hawke hung in the bonds, the pad of her foot finally sticking to the ground and holding her steady as her breathing quickened.

"This is a lesson and a reminder," Danarius firmly said, putting a hand in Anders hair and tightening to ensure the mage's head lifted towards Hawke. "You will watch and remember your places beneath me."

Hawke cried out the moment the short whip cracked across her back, the stroke magnified by the magic weakening her limbs. She scarce had time to recover as successive hits blazed over her skin, erratic and striking new skin to redden with each swipe. She trembled and looked up her arms in the blinding pain, hearing the change as the leather hit wetness, proving the blood that readily dripped from the wheals.

When there was a break, Hawke found herself shuddering and gasping into the gag, her choked sounds echoing in the wide ballroom. She twirled a little in the bonds, and she could see Hadriana stalk through blurry eyes. And see the eyes of the room upon her. Blocking it out, she choked on another cry, unable to rouse her limbs to move, to shield herself, unable to even feign escape.

From where she sat, Bethany tightened her fingers into the loose fabric of her robes, expression a sagging mask. She twitched as Hadriana took up the short whip again, drawing a scream from Hawke as she slashed across the weeping, angry lines down her back and thighs. She couldn't keep the tremble from her limbs.

"I do not merely want your submission – this is not a resignation," Danarius said when Hadriana paused. He licked his lips, tightening his grasp in Anders' hair once more. "You can only accept my will if you surrender yourself. Let yourself be liberated."

Hadriana prowled around Hawke, her eyes on the trembling muscles and limbs, and the way the blood spattered when the whip cracked. Her breathing had grown heavy, and she purred, "Scream for me." She snapped the whip on the rogue's breasts and stomach, drawing a sharper cry as the leather bit her skin anew. Hawke hid her face in her arms, her only haven as the magic spread her open to the acute pain.

Expression calm, Danarius caught the back of Anders' collar and hauled him to his feet. There was a peculiar word on his lips and his mana coalesced to dim the runes on the collar into nothingness. "Heal her."

"Master," Anders choked, putting a hand to the collar on his throat as he felt the sudden rush of Justice' presence within him – the familiarity he had been denied.

"Now," Danarius threatened.

Looking towards Hawke as she began to sob, Anders lifted his hands to cast the spell, and the effusion of emerald light enveloped her. Hadriana followed him, casting her own detrimental spell once more.

The ghost of the lacerations lingered in Hawke's skin as she hung there, and she jerked as the whip came down again, smacking in the fresh blood still dripping down her now whole skin. She was progressively flayed again, and her muscles began to tremble. Looking up along her bound arms, Hawke choked on her cry, tears spilling down her cheeks as she was hit.

Fenris steeled his jaw, watching the ordeal, knowing he could not look away. Her cries turned his stomach, and his vision blurred as she twisted and wept. His hands numbed, resting on his knees, and he blinked to watch her. Didn't he owe her that? He had led her to this, he could not shrink into himself and abandon her.

"You have invited danger for so long, you have yearned for it, little bird," Danarius said as he casually watched. Beside him, Anders was shaking his head, standing with shoulders slumped nearby. "To yield from your defences and allow yourself to lose. To be helpless, to have no means of escape – don't you wish it to be real?"

Hadriana spun on her heel, casting the calculated spell, and a fire lit under Hawke's feet. The rogue's sobs escalated as she struggled to move, weakened and whipped limbs jerking to escape the lick of flames blistering her skin.

"Stop this!" Anders snapped, and there was a crackle of blue across his skin. His eyes lit from within, glowing as his voice fractured between octaves, "You will not harm another!"

He caught Hadriana with a crackle of energy before Danarius could react, and the lady mage screamed and stumbled back. Before he could cast again, the magister spoke a command, and Anders' collar flared bright as the runes reactivated. The light died in his eyes and he diminished, almost stumbling to the ground.

"On your knees," Danarius commanded, though there was a peculiar light in his eyes as he grinned. Anders acquiesced and knelt down, clutching the collar as he panted.

Hadriana hissed and smoothed her robes, winding her arm and snapping the whip down over Anders' shoulders.

"Do not touch him," Danarius spat, and his apprentice shrunk back. "She is yours. Anders, heel."

Still trembling from the outburst, Anders crawled on hands and knees to Danarius' side, sitting on his haunches where the man indicated. Smiling with odd delight, the magister looked to his apprentice. Hadriana wiped a bit of blood from beneath her nose, glowering at Anders.

When the fire extinguished at her feet, Hawke hung in her bonds, shuddering uncontrollably and scarce muffling her sobs in her arms. She tensed as another series of lashes broke her skin, the hard snaps of the leather leaving deep lines across her underarms and sides.

"Enjoy this while you can, pet," Hadriana huffed, pausing by Hawke's ear. She scratched her fingers down across the lacerations, making the bound woman whimper and twitch. "This is sensation. And you will soon learn that it is better than the absence."

"I'm sorry, Mistress!" Hawke cried, choking on her breath as she took another lash across her breasts. Her voice was stuffy and broken, "Nooo – no, please... no more, no more!"

"Do you enjoy seeing her suffer, little wolf?" Danarius casually asked, lifting his hand from Fenris' head to heal Hawke of her wounds once more. He ignored the woman's choked cry, touching his elf's pale hair once more.

"If it is your wish, Master," Fenris replied, his eyes unfocused upon Hawke.

"I wish something more," Danarius coolly said, sitting up more and opening his robes. "Your mouth – your lips."

Fenris crawled between his master's legs, going cold as he heard Hawke's sharp cry once more, but his hands moved without thought. If he didn't think, if he only acted on his Master's will, there would be no trouble. He slipped his hand around the magister's soft member, guiding it to his mouth to suckle him hard.

"This could be your mouth instead," Danarius casually said as he dragged a few fingers around Anders' neck. "If you will not watch the slave being punished."

Anders shuddered and almost closed his eyes, but forced them open and kept his gaze on the whip as it cracked on Hawke's skin again. Hadriana was flagging, and there was a sheen on her skin, perhaps it would be enough soon. "Whatever you wish, Master."

"Yes," Danarius said as he looked down, tangling his fingers in Fenris' hair as the elf sucked his hard cock. "That's exactly it."

It seemed the world had disappeared when Hadriana finally cut Hawke down. The rogue collapsed to the floor, unable to keep from shaking as her cheek slumped against the floor. She could smell blood – she could see spatters of it on the floor. It was her own blood. Hawke became aware of Hadriana's laboured breathing. It didn't seem real.

"On your hands and knees," Hadriana commanded, throwing the short whip down.

Hawke tried to lift herself, jelly limbs unwilling to respond as she struggled to move. Her head swung, and she collapsed back to the ground as a wave of dizziness hit her. The slaves were gone – everyone was gone. When had they left? How could she not have noticed? Her pulse thrummed in her ears, eyes glassy.

"Get up!" Hadriana snapped, nearly kicking her.

Hawke trembled and put a hand on the floor, trying to urge her limbs to action, and as they weakened more tears spilled down her cheeks. Her expression contorted at the seeming trauma of her own inaction, and it cracked the salty stains on her skin, "I – I'm trying, Mistress. I…please I…"

Hadriana closed her eyes, a calmness settling over her features before she reached down and grabbed Hawke's bonds. She hoisted the woman up, and Hawke floundered, trying to find footing but only able to keep shaking.

"Thank you, Mistress," Hawke blubbered, hands opening to reach for the mage.

Only a brief moment of kindness flickered in Hadriana's eyes, before she pulled Hawke along with her, "You have yet more punishment for your disobedience, slave."

"Please, Mistress," Hawke wheezed, struggling to keep her footing as Hadriana lead her through the mansion and down beyond the slave quarters. "Please, I am sorry, Mistress! I only want to please you."

"And I might yet believe that," Hadriana said in a breath, forcing Hawke to her knees. She unlocked the door in the wall, and motioned within, "Go inside."

Visibly shaking, Hawke looked into the dark space, the horrific memory of her previous confinement rising like bile. Or maybe it was bile. She nearly retched and shook her head, "Mistress, please! Please, I'll serve you well, I will do anything you say!"

"You will," Hadriana said, caressing Hawke's head, before coldly adding, "Go in."

"I am sorry, Mistress," Hawke put her hands on the ground, tears on her cheeks as she crawled into the space. Unable to fit on her hands and knees, she gripped the back wall and pulled herself up. Turning around to plead further, Hadriana shut the door on her. Sobbing out roughly, Hawke let herself fall against the door, hitting it with her bound arms as she cried, "Please, Mistress! I'll do anything!"

But Hadriana was already gone.


	17. Winter's Coming

The cold, bright blue eyes that Fenris knew so well.

Hadriana looked down, crossing her arms as she stood in front of Hawke. The enslaved woman had been leashed in the main hall following her extended punishment; for being with him and Anders - for seeing her sister. With Anders and Danarius in the private baths, Fenris was left in the hall on guard alongside the naked, dirty human.

"Please, Mistress," Hawke grovelled and stretched towards Hadriana on her hands and knees. "I am sorry, I try so hard to please you."

"Do not lie to me so plainly," Hadriana coldly said, the switch from her sleeve coming down on Hawke's hands. "You are a brat."

"I am Mistress, but I try to change," Hawke flinched, choking on her breath and tilting her head down. "I want to be a good pet for you."

"It makes you feel better when you are," Hadriana flatly said.

"Yes, Mistress," Hawke hurried to say, cowing upon herself as she blushed. She made no move to conceal her hands, lifting her arms for Hadriana again. The mage switched the backs of her hands and forearms. "I want only what you want. Only your desires."

Fenris tilted his head, something pitiful turning in his gut and forcing him to look out the window. He flinched when he realized Hadriana was addressing him.

"Slut of a pet, I said to fetch a bowl of water," Hadriana caught him by one of the ears, and Fenris cringed down.

"Yes, mistress," Fenris quickly replied before hurrying away. He returned with his eyes downcast on the clay bowl of water, awaiting Hadriana's command. When he laid out the bowl for Hawke, he could not meet her eyes, and returned to his post by the door.

It was a routine he knew all too well. The denial and abuse Hadriana had once harboured for him alone, jealous of how Danarius doted on the branded slave. To drink water like a dog. To be denied food and rest. Begging for the others slaves to bring the bucket to relieve yourself in. The whippings if you couldn't hold it. Weaknening to become clay and begging without shame. Hawke had been in the hall for two days. Locked in a closet for another pair before that. Fenris unconsciously shuddered.

Hawke struggled to drink the water, and it dripped from her chin as she whispered, "Thank you so much."

Hadriana's eyes were ice as she casually kicked the bowl, and Hawke whimpered as she put her hands in the spilt water.

"Mistress!" Hawke begged, dark circles around her eyes as she looked down, expression crushed. "Thank you, mistress!"

"You will stay another day," Hadriana hissed before leaving up the stairs.

Fenris watched until her robes were gone, listening to be sure the witch wouldn't return. Hawke flinched like a rabbit when he reached for her hands to stop her from lapping the water up from the stone floor. He met her eyes and whispered, "I'll get you more."

* * *

Anders leant on the table as he looked at his book, before taking up the knife to chop up the purplish root. Now and then his eyes flecked to the alembic. When the fluid inside turned the right hue, he measured some of the minced root and added it to the flask. As he adjusted the flame, Fenris came in the door behind him.

"More ingredients?" Anders said under his breath, moving down the table to prep something else.

"Yes," Fenris plainly said, walking to place it where Anders indicated. The elf lingered as Anders continued to work, walking to the window to look down on the empty courtyard. Winter had closed in and the sun set early - there might be frost. At least a few nights, anyway.

"It's almost First Day, you know," Anders said under his breath, setting the mortar aside and sniffing in.

"I suppose it is," Fenris replied, stepping closer as Anders looked upward. He hesitated before saying, "Danarius often has quite the party."

"Of course," Anders emptily said, before looking at the elf. "Not Master?"

Fenris' expression creased before he slowly said, "He is… but I have begun to think there is more than just what the magister demands."

"Or any mage? Can't escape me being one, you know."

"I'm well aware of that," Fenris replied, and he cringed as Anders ran a hand down his arm. He wandered back by the window.

"What made you start thinking of it?"

"A lot of things," Fenris said, crossing his arms. Tucking his chin down, he continued, "I see myself in Marian. I told you what I felt when we…" Exhaling, he picked up his thoughts again, "I've begun to wonder if I have a family somewhere, if they're alright. What was my life like before being a…"

"A slave."

"Yes," Fenris quietly said. "Maybe I wasn't always a slave."

"You won't always be either," Anders quickly said, before adding, "I know… it might seem less and less likely, but I've almost got… I shouldn't speak of it."

"No?"

"If Danarius questions you, it's easier if you don't know anything."  
"I see," Fenris replied. He shook his head, looking down as Anders approached again, running a hand up the curve of his neck. "Would you want me to join you?"

"Of course," Anders smirked. "Unless you don't want to? I… had gotten the impression you felt at least something for me."

"I…" Fenris bristled slightly before exhaling and looking down. "I don't know what to think about it."

"When I lost the duel, do you remember your attitude towards Marian?" Anders said, turning to lean against the wall beside the window.

"She had tried to steal from my m… from Danarius," Fenris consciously said. "I didn't think she was worth much, honestly."

"And now?"

Fenris' expression softened, "Now… I'm not sure I know who she is at all. She isn't the same anymore."

"I haven't been able to see her since…" Anders hunched his shoulders, looking down between them.

"She isn't well," Fenris quietly said. "There is no hesitation in her obedience anymore. She does not laugh and joke when Hadriana is not looking – she used to. It is as though she is simply not there anymore."

"Yes, because telling me that really makes me feel better," Anders snipped.

"I apologize," Fenris said, finally reaching to take his hand. "Even if it is your fault, that was not my intent."

"There isn't a day that goes by that I don't remind myself of everything she's been through – everything that's happened because of me," Anders quietly said, still staring down. He closed his eyes, swallowing before he said, "When is the bal-"

Fenris leant in to kiss him, pressing the mage against the wall and forcing their tongues together. The creases smoothed out of Anders features as he slipped his hand around the elf's neck. Planting his hand against the wall, Fenris sighed as their bodies pressed together, hips grinding to urge their members hard. When he gave the space, Fenris ran his hand down the concealed shaft in Anders' robes as their lips met once more.

"Anders, you'll never beli-" Bethany stopped in her tracks, and the door swung shut. Her jaw dropped as she shrunk back, her cheeks flushing brightly as she spun around again.

"I," Anders choked a minute, wrapping an arm in front of Fenris to push him aside. He tried to conceal the tent in his robes. "What are you doing here?"  
Bethany looked at her hands, fiddling with something before tucking a book deeper under her arm, "I-it can wait, I'll come back."

"No, wait it," Anders said, taking a step towards her - but she was already back out the door, closing it quickly behind her. He slowly sighed, "Flames..."

"Does she often come see you?" Fenris rumbled, still leaning against the wall.

Anders shook his head, licking his reddened lips as he watched the door, "Not really... no."


	18. Out of Hand

Dismissed as Danarius retired to his study, Fenris walked down the hall with his eyes down. His skin was rosy in the warmth of the mansion, and the tips of his ears were only just beginning to have feeling again. The day was humid and cold, and a biting wind was blowing in from the harbour. Anders had scarce flinched, lifting his face fully into the chilly air at the senate that day. He seemed unnaturally at ease, a peculiar twitch in his expression.

Fenris' steps slowed as he heard a sharp cry – easily recognizable as Hawke's. He closed his eyes and kept his head down, hurrying on.

"Fenris," Hadriana's voice followed him as he passed her doorway. "Come sit."

Hair bristling on the back of his neck, Fenris moved without thought into her room. Hawke was unbound and naked on the floor, kneeling with her hands clasped behind her head. She was panting and trying to gather her senses, and didn't look up as the elf moved at the mage's command.

"Make yourself more comfortable," Hadriana casually directed. She motioned with the switch she held in her hand. "Strip down, and sit on the bed."

As Fenris stripped off his clothing, he saw Hadriana nudge Hawke in his periphery, urging the kneeling woman to turn around and face the bed.

"Isn't my little bird lovely," Hadriana purred, squatting down behind Hawke to run her hands over the rogue's shoulders and down over her breasts. There were dark welts across her breasts and stomach, creating a crosshatch on her skin.

Fenris swallowed, his eyes down about Hawke's knees as he rumbled, "Yes, mistress."

Hadriana flecked the needles that pierced Hawke's nipples, drawing a harsh gasp from the broken woman. "Then touch yourself. Look at her, look at what she has taken because of her love for me. Show her how much you adore seeing her this way."

Hesitating only a moment, Fenris ran his hand down his thigh, looking up Hawke's body. The woman suckled her bottom lip in, only chancing briefly to meet his gaze before it dropped away, and he clasped his half-soft member as she did.

"This is for you, pet," Hadriana whispered, clutching Hawke's hair to force her head up. "Don't you wish to see it?"

"If you wish it, Mistress," Hawke hurriedly said, her voice a shadow of its former glory.

A pang in his chest, Fenris glanced away, tightening his jaw as he stroked himself hard, aware of the way Hadriana whispered to Hawke, and the diminutive way in which the slave replied.

"Do you love me?" Hadriana asked, standing to drag the switch in hand down Hawke's abused back.

"Yes, Mistress," Hawke swallowed the words, closing her eyes as the end of the supple reed was frozen by the mage. It made her shiver, soothing the welts on her skin.

"How much," Hadriana said, hand on top of her head. "Open your eyes."

Hawke's eyes snapped open, focusing upon Fenris once more as she replied, "More than my own life, Mistress!"

"Yes," Hadriana purred, tightening her grip in Hawke's hair. "Such a good pet."

Fenris exhaled roughly out his nose, a flare of anger in his chest as he gripped his shaft. Stroking it, he scarce met Hawke's eyes, watching the tremble in her limbs as Hadriana moved. He watched the magical ice move over her abused limbs, and Hawke progressively shivered more and more. Thumb up the base of his cock, he licked his lips when Hawke finally met his eyes.

"Good, " Hadriana said, standing back to snap the switch on Hawke's cold skin. The rogue cried out, steeling herself as more strikes followed, tightening her hands at the back of her head. The mage glowed, moving to whip Hawke's pert nipples with the flexible bit of wood, rousing more angry welts on her pale breasts.

Fenris stroked harder as Hawke cried out, distancing himself inside from the woman's sounds of pain. Why could he no longer play the game? He was going soft despite his best efforts, and panic fluttered in his chest. His eyes fell to Hawke's lips, watching as she bit one in and choked on a cry as Hadriana whipped her.

"Slave, you are not pleasing enough for him," Hadriana sweetly said, steeling the reed and catching up Hawke's neck and face.

"Please, Mistress," Hawke cried out, suddenly twisting to escape the lashes. Her lip broke, and she scrunched her eyes tight to protect them, shuddering with cold as the woman hit her. "I want to, Mistress, please! I only wish to please you!"

A flare of anger twisted in Fenris' chest, and he let go of his manhood, hand dropping onto the bedsheet beside him. He couldn't look away, gripping the coverlet as he watched, the ire inside choking like bile in his throat.

"Lies," Hadriana hissed, flicking her arm and smacking Hawke across the face again, finally rousing tears to the slave's eyes. "You have given me nothing but lies!"

"No, Mistress," Hawke shook her head, tears on her cheeks as she dropped her arms to protect her face. She cowered instinctively to the ground, "I will do anything, Mistress, I am sorry! Forgive me!"

"Then do not shrink from your punishment," Hadriana hissed, snatching Hawke's arm to pull it away from her face. "Sit up and put your hands behind your head, or it will be ten times worse."

Hawke softly wept, trembling as she let her arms go slack, and let Hadriana pull her back up onto her knees.

"Stop," Fenris snapped, on his feet before the surprise at his outburst could settle in. The lyrium brands on his skin lit with the tremble of his anger, and he looked up to Hadriana. "Do not touch her again."

Hadriana kept her grip on Hawke's arm as she looked to the elf, slowly shaking her head. "What is this? Master's wolf dares to bare his teeth? Ohhh, but you will pay... on your knees elf, and I will show leniency."

"Mistress, please," Hawke choked, held at an odd angle in Hadriana's grasp.

"Silence!" Hadriana snapped, and swiped her face with switch again, drawing a cry of protest.

Before she could hit Hawke again, Hadriana found her neck caught in Fenris' tight grip, a flare of blue dragging her feet across the floor and pinning her against the wall.

"I said do not touch her!" Fenris growled, grip tightening on her throat to constrict her breath. The mage jerked and her eyes went wide from the pressure, in the instance before he coiled his arm. With a snarl he buried his faded hand into her chest, and Hadriana convulsed in his grasp. In another moment, his muscles jerked, and he crushed her heart, before his senses revived, and he staggered back.

Hadriana slumped to the ground, a slow slide down the wall as her vacant eyes looked on. Fenris stumbled back another step, the warmth of her blood draining off his fingers and dripping to the ground as his brands faded. He could only stare as the panic of his pulse filled his senses. It was as though Hawke read his thoughts.

"Is – is she dead?" Hawke whispered, still cowed and trembling against the ground.

Fenris did not need to check, staring down upon the broken mage. A numbness flooded down his limbs, leaving only the chill on his fingertips as the blood began to cool. "Yes."

Hawke's breath shuddered as she scrambled on hands and knees to Hadriana's side, almost seeming bereft as she checked the woman's pulse. Finding none, she unsteadily pulled to her feet and threw her arms around Fenris' neck, sobbing against his skin. "Yes."

Buzzing inside, Fenris slowly cradled Hawke against him, pressing his lips in the curve of her neck as she ran her hand up through his pale hair. He closed his eyes, scarce touching her whipped body as she trembled.

"You killed her," Hawke choked on the words, leaning back to cup his head and kiss his lips, cheeks and eyes. She was still shaking as she shook her head, her voice growing with relief, "You killed her."

Fenris looked at Hadriana's body again as Hawke pressed into his arms, unable to keep from staring. Massaging his fingers up the back of her neck, he softly said, "What do we do now?"

"Put on clothing," Hawke said, putting the back of her hand against her mouth as she stood on her own, still shaking. There was blood on her face, her nose and lips swollen from the whipping.

"I," Fenris made a sound in disbelief, "That's not what I meant."

Hawke's features twisted as she nodded, turning to kick Hadriana as she lay dead. A cry rose in her throat, and she stomped on the woman again. When she wound up again, Fenris caught her arms and kept her from hurting herself. Hawke stumbled back on bare feet, nude alongside him as they both looked at the body.

"Are you done?" Fenris asked, pressing his lips in line.

Wiping the blood from her lips, Hawke trembled and nodded, staring down at Hadriana, "Yeah. Anders. W-we need Anders."


	19. A Balm for Our Troubles

"I'm buzzing," Hawke quietly said, flexing her hands as she followed Fenris. He'd helped her into her armour from the chest beside Hadriana's bed, before donning his own tight vest and pants once more. "You glow from the inside – this is what you feel, isn't it? Like I'm ready to burst."

"Quiet," Fenris admonished, grabbing her hand to shrink against the shadows as two elves ran past them and out into the courtyard.

"What's going on?"

"Why should I know?" Fenris replied, hearing other doors burst with a flurry of activity. "I was busy. Remember?"

Hawke squeezed his hand to stop him, and when he looked back, she caught his lips in a hard kiss. Their eyes met in the wake, and she softly said, "I owe you."

"That may be..." Fenris inhaled and shook his head, pulling her with him towards Anders' study – when they ran into the mage coming out of the slave quarters.

"Thank the Maker!" Anders said, and he did a double take when he saw Hawke. "Marian... what has she been doing to you?"

"She's dead," Hawke blurted, and the trio stopped as another elf hurried out of the slave quarters and ran past them with scarce a second glance.

"What?"

"Hadriana," Fenris said, looking away, "I killed her."

Anders' expression blanked as he looked between them, and his mouth flapped a moment before saying, "She's dead."

Hawke nodded and put a hand over her mouth, a ghost of fear in her eyes as she roughly whispered, "What do we do, Anders?"

"Get out of here, that's what," Anders murmured, giving them a bit of a push down the hall.

"But... but Master... Danarius will not let us go," Hawke blurted, walking on stiff legs. She looked down and murmured, "He'll find me."

"Yes, well I like to think – Bethany," Anders stopped as the woman came down the hall from the kitchen.

"Maker's breath, what is going on – Marian? Sweet mercy, what has she done to you now?" Bethany tightened her fist, before summoning the mana needed to heal Hawke. They embraced, and Bethany spoke as they parted, "Anders, I've been trying to speak with you for days."

"Now's not really the time," Anders cleared his throat, and urged them on down the hall.

"Yes it is," Bethany glanced between them, before putting her hands on Anders' arms to stop him. "It's about your collar."

The ground shook beneath them and a distant echo trembled the walls of the manor, and Anders looked into nothingness, "Can we walk and talk?"

"What? What was that?" Hawke asked.

"The senate, perhaps?" Anders casually said, clearing his throat.

Bethany frowned and said, "I can remove it. The command he used that day... I found it."

Anders' eyes snapped to her, a desperate hope in his eyes, "You can get of it?"

"Kneel down," Bethany said, "Hurry, before someone comes. Hadriana can't see us all together."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Hawke murmured, and Fenris shook his head.

Exhaling slowly, Anders knelt down, his eyes wide as he looked back through the house, "We cannot be here long."

"Master will hurt us if he finds out," Hawke quietly said, following his gaze.

"Come," Fenris took Hawke's hand to hurry away, "We need our weapons."

"I know how you feel about blood magic, Anders," Bethany said, frowning as she took his hand.

"The same as you - ow!" Anders looked down at the concealed blade she had sliced open his hand with.

"It's the only way to counter what he used," Bethany whispered, cutting her own hand and summoning the right channels. Anders eyes rolled back into his head, and a groan rose on his lips as his back went rigid. Bethany drew a deep breath, and a whirl of dark energy appeared on the ground beneath him, before she spoke the command that dimmed the ruins.

A concentrated orb of vibrations coalesced in between Bethany's hands, and Anders' eyes went wide as he choked, and the air blurred with the low frequency. There was the crack of metal, and a fracture in the collar shattered.

Anders slumped forward onto his hands as he gasped for air, Justice welling beneath his skin and flooding his senses with urgency. The collar clanked to the ground beside him, and he panted for breath as the light faded. Bethany buoyed and stumbled back, healing her hand as she looked at him.

"Anders?" she softly asked.

Touching his throat, Anders felt the callous where the collar had rubbed all these months, a zing of delight in his loins and mind at how intimate the Fade suddenly felt - at the power which embraced and welcomed him back. He softly croaked, "Maker, Bethany... I picked the right woman to fall in love with. Lucky to have you around."

Bethany took his arm and helped him up, quietly saying, "I don't know about that. I hoped the vibrations would work, but when he said disengaged the ruins..."

"There's no time," Anders said, the brevity of the situation taking hold again. He clutched Bethany's arms, "We have to get out of here - now!"

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd join us," Hawke tiredly said from where she leant against the doorframe with Fenris. "Don't I get a kiss?"

"Anywhere you want a million times over, sweetheart," Anders replied, ushering them towards the front hall. "When we are free and clear from this miserable mansion."

"Is that where the slaves are going?" Bethany asked, undoing the wards on the door to let them escape onto the grounds. She took the lead.

"Yes," Anders said, and his steps slowed as he saw Danarius at the gates. The magister had cornered two slaves and turned as they approached.

"Bethany," Danarius plainly said. "I should have known you had a hand in this. Freeing Anders too... do you think the senate will accept such sedition?"

Shaking her head, Bethany summoned a fire in her hands, "I don't care what they think - or you. I won't stand by and let you harm the people I love anymore."

"Backbone," the magister said as he caught one of the slaves by the hair as he tried to flee. "I would not have expected that from you. Had you not sent my slaves scattering, I might have looked beyond this oversight."

"I had nothing to do with that," Bethany replied.

"I couldn't stand by and let you crush us anymore," Anders's cracked in multi-octaves, stepping forward as his body crackled with power and vengeful fire. "Mages might be free in Tevinter, but what good do we do with our power? We condemn others to imprisonment, just like our kin abroad."

Danarius' eyes lit with enthrall as Anders regained himself, and the magister said, "Is that what this is all about? Why you duelled me all those months ago?"

"You only delayed the inevitable," Anders said, his voice trembling with anger. "And made me want to kill you myself."

"You can still make a name for yourself in this city, Anders," Danarius said, gripping the neck of the slave and forcing him to his knees. "And I will let Hawke go."

"No!" Anders hissed, and the fire of justice lit his hands. "There is no turning back!"

The ground beneath them trembled with the sudden, rending explosion, and the manor behind them filled with an unnatural light. Staggering sideways, Anders caught Hawke and Fenris, pulling them with him to the ground alongside Bethany and enveloping them in a protective aura. The air rushed with heat as the mansion exploded, sending debris flying beyond the grounds and setting nearby buildings aflame.

Ears ringing, Anders pulled to his feet before any of them, searching for Danarius amidst the burning landscape.

"What in the Maker's name was that?" Hawke groaned as she struggled onto hands and knees.

"Anders," Fenris said, pawing the ground for his sword, "You did this."

"Yes," Anders blurted, offering a hand to help Bethany up. "Come on, we need to run for it."

"I don't think so," Danarius snarled from against the gates. He slit the throat of the elvhen slave alongside him and gathered the air into a bloody haze. "Fenris," he hissed, "Kill them."

Flinching, Fenris clutched his broadsword and tensed his muscles, as he growled, "No."

Danarius made a small sound of disbelief, his face smeared with ash, and the bottoms of his robes smouldering. There was another explosion in the next quarter as he shook his head and stabbed his hand, "Then another will aid me. Caedite eos!"

At the blood-borne command, Hawke lurched and drew her daggers, launching at Fenris without a thought of her own. The elf deflected her attack with a cry of surprise, and beside them Anders and Bethany roused their magic. They fell into what almost seemed to be routine, a mirror of the sparring they had done near day-to-day for months.

"Marian," Fenris gasped as he darted out of the way, swinging to smack her with the flat side of his sword. "Marian, stop!"

There was a burst of fire as Bethany brought down the sky, and Danarius scattered along the gates as it licked his flesh. In turn, Hawke staggered, losing her place as she shuddered in pain, an unbidden cry rising in her throat. She flailed as though aflame, before righting herself and panting to launch at Fenris again.

He knocked her to the ground before yelling, "Anders!"

"Get towards the gates!" Anders cried, the Fade weaving in his hands to light the air with the crackle of lightning.

Hawke was on Fenris' heels, and their blades met again in a foray across the debris-strewn, burning landscape. Her vacant eyes followed him, blank windows as her nimble limbs weakened his defences.

"Don't make me do this, Hawke," he panted as he grabbed one of her arms. She scarce hesitated to whip the other dagger round, stabbing his left arm. He cried out, the brands on his skin flare, and in the next moment he launched and bowled her over.

Deeper on the grounds, Danarius caught another slave disorientated by the blast, slitting their throat wide to absorb the essence of their life. Bethany and Anders followed, trading spells that the magister deflected and absorbed, before being knocked to the ground by a forceful rumble.

"We need to kill him," Bethany huffed, cracking her sole bottle of lyrium before handing half to Anders.

"It's killing her," Anders replied, chancing to look where Fenris fought Hawke off. The elf cracked her head and she swayed to the ground, struggling on hands and knees.

"You're the expert healer here," Bethany said, before spinning her staff to summon an arcane shield. Bolts flew from the carved tip of her stave, matched in turn by Danarius' flair.

Anders shook his head, looking back to gather the ether and a ward sprung to life at Hawke's feet, pulsing bright blue. Turning back to Danarius, he fashioned a rock in the air, before hurtling across the lawn and smashing into one of the magister's shoulders.

Hawke choked on a cry as her shoulder went limp, and she swung her dagger with defined lethargy. Fenris caught her arms again, and they fell to the ground, grappling as he lost his sword. He snagged one of her fallen daggers, moving in time to catch the blade of the other as she bore her weight down on it.

"Marian," he panted, muscles straining to sustain her weight above him.

Shuddering, blood fell from Hawke's lips as Danarius duelled with Bethany and Anders. Her eyes were glazed as she struggled to choke out the words, "Kill him."

Scrunching his face, Fenris rolled with the weight of her blade, taking the dagger deep in his shoulder. Hissing and setting his brands alight, he straddled Hawke and punched her quickly, before taking the dagger from his limb and stabbing her pauldron to the ground. As she floundered, he just barely escaped to retrieve his sword and follow to where Danarius fought for his life.

The air crackled with the volley of magical energy, and Fenris' limbs faded into a ghost as he jogged along the outer wall of the estate. With unnatural speed, he darted over the cobbles to catch Danarius across the back with his blade. Staggering forward, the mage's concentration was broken, and a writhing cage of light ensnared his limbs. The magister convulsed in the trap, staff tumbling from his grasp as he finally collapsed to the ground.

Anders and Bethany lingered nearby, before Fenris spun his sword and said, "Get to Hawke." With a shuddering breath, he decapitated Danarius in a single stroke.

The moment the magister lost his head, Hawke contorted in blinding pain, screaming as her senses blacked out. As the light faded, the glyph about her prone form flared to life, and a rush of air filled her limbs and roused her to all fours. Shuddering and coughing up blood, she almost slumped to the ground again as the pair of mages came running.

"Thank the Maker!" Bethany cried.

Anders quickly healed her, before falling to his knees, "Marian - Marian say something."

Hawke trembled on the ground as she blinked heavy eyes, her head lolling as she whispered, "No more fight. I need a drink."

Relief on his features, Anders swooped her into his arms, hugging her tightly and kissing her hair, "We'll get wasted, I swear. Bloody wasted."


	20. Fit the Bill

From her vantage on the rooftop of the hillside inn, Hawke saw the smoke trailing into the sky, dotting places that Minrathous still burned with the coming dawn. She took another deep drink of whiskey, glancing over her shoulder to see Bethany climbing up. Sucking a deep, cooling breath, she offered the skein to her sister.

"No, thank you," Bethany said, tucking her robes under to sit beside Hawke.

"That's kind of you," Hawke quietly said, looking back to the city and drinking again. She sucked a breath through her teeth, looking at the scarring along her hands. "Where are we going to go now?"

Bethany wiped the hair from her eyes as the wind blew through the hills, "I don't know. I never told you... I heard from Carver. He was injured in the war."

"Least the nug humper is alive," Hawke said, dropping her hand over her sister's. "Despite his best efforts."

"We can't just forget him," Bethany softly said.

"I can't just leave Anders and Fenris," Hawke looked to her sister with haunted eyes. They both fell into silence a while, and she looked back towards the city.

"There is still fighting in the streets," Bethany said, following Hawke's gaze. "He blew up the senate too, you know. A lot of slaves have made it out of the city from the sounds."

"He had collaborators too," Hawke hoarsely said, drinking more whiskey. "I figure I'll ask more when we've gotten farther out of harm's way. Right now it just... I..." She shuddered and pulled her knees up, hugging them close.

Bethany wrapped an arm around her, and they sat together in the breeze, "You're free. We all are."

"Yes," Hawke croaked, closing her eyes and laying her head on Bethany's shoulder. The mage slowly stroked her fingers through her sister's dark hair.

"We cannot stay here long," Bethany whispered, tenderly caressing her sister's neck and hair. "A night at most."

"I know," Hawke whispered, a subtle tremble in her form. "We're marked. Property, and all that."

"Not anymore, dear sister," Bethany replied, turning her lips against Hawke's forehead.

"Taking care of me like this," Hawke shrugged and took up her drink again, downing a gulp. "Aren't I supposed to be the big sister here?"

"It's alright to lean on the people who love you," Bethany softly said, dropping her hand onto Hawke's knee and giving it a squeeze.

Hawke sighed, and put her hand over her sister's. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the cool wind before she finally said, "Don't we have family in Kirkwall?"

"Kirkwall?" Bethany righted herself. "Are you mad? Do you know how many templars they have in Kirkwall?"

"I almost think they'd be preferable to magisters," Hawke murmured, eyes vacantly floating over the hillside.

"Don't you remember what they were like? Besides..." Bethany lowered her voice, looking down as a pair of patrons approached the inn. "Didn't you hear? It was utterly decimated this fall."

"Hello?" Hawke peered through the dark circles under her eyes. "Spent the last year as a slave?"

Bethany sighed, "There was a group of qunari that overthrew the city and all but forced them to convert to the Qun. It's given them a foothold in the south."

"Fine, fine, ruin all my fun," Hawke sighed slowly, before taking another long drink. It was softening the edges of her fear, of Hadriana's face and hands in her memory, of the ghost in her flesh. "Carver's to the east?"

Bethany nodded, "Qarinus. It's where many of the injured are sent."

Hawke's voice grew smaller, "Do you remember where father died?"

"Of course I do," Bethany soberly said. "Seleny. How could I forget?"

Taking her sister's hand, Hawke drew it to her lips, "That's where we'll meet then. Every second sunset at La Campagna until we're together again."

"Oh Marian," Bethany said, throwing her arms around her sister, "I just got you back."

"Ah, I'm not all there yet, don't you worry," Hawke said under her breath. "It'll give me time to... well, to whatever it is, just so long as Carver doesn't see me like this."

"I've missed you so much," Bethany whispered.

"Same here, kiddo," Hawke replied, squeezing her tightly and closing her eyes.

Sniffing in, Bethany shifted back and said, "I best leave soon." She looked at her sister once more, and softly said, "Seleny."

Hawke nodded, tucking her chin down as her sister struggled down off the roof. The whiskey had warmed her belly, bringing back the life to her limbs and heart better than any spell could. She was slippery, lithe and free. Standing up, she easily climbed through the window into their room at the inn, and found Anders flipping through a book as Fenris minded the door. They were both nearly on their feet at the intrusion.

"Maker, Marian," Anders exhaled, shaking his head.

Fenris murmured, "We have a door, you know."

"Yes, tired of doors," Hawke said as she crossed the room and linked her hands around Anders' neck to pull him into her lips. She rose on her toes, parting her lips to deepen the kiss before leaving him huffing quietly for more. "What's with you and doors? Doesn't it lock?"

Fenris shifted his weight before saying, "It does."

Hawke trailed her hand down Ander's arm before turning to the elf and leaning a hand against the door beside his head, "Thank you for saving me." Before he could reply, she took his lips, breathing deeply as Fenris' hands wound up her waist and back. Hawke snagged his vest and tugged it open before pulling it off.

"You've been drinking," the elf murmured.

"She does that," Anders replied as Hawke flashed a grin.

"I said I would," Hawke breathed against Fenris' lips. They were soon kissing again, and his hands found her shirt, shucking it as they edged towards the bed. When she bit his lip, he snagged her thigh and hoisted her back onto the soft covers.

"You're alright? I didn't hurt you?" Fenris murmured as he kissed the contours of her collarbone.

"Anders fixed me," Hawke said, before she twitched into his mouth and suddenly burst out laughing. As Fenris rolled in confusion, she jerked and squealed, "That isn't fair!"

"Yes it is," Anders softly said, expression warming as he tickled her foot again and knelt on the bed in his smalls. "I just wanted to hear you laugh."

"It's not fair," Hawke said, expression contorting as she tried to contain it. She clutched Fenris arm and looked up to him, "Help me?"

"Oh?" Fenris lightly said, glancing down her body as Anders tugged her leather trousers off. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, grinning as Anders leant down and bit one of her toes.

"Hey!" Hawke jerked again, laughing as she squirmed. She shook her head and pulled from his embrace, "Terrible men, the both of you."

"Horrible," Anders replied, lounging more comfortably on the bed as he leaned down and kissed Fenris' knee.

"Is... is this where you want to be, Fenris?" Hawke asked as she leant against the wall, watching Anders' face. The mage shifted to take her foot, and she almost pulled it away as he smiled and merely kissed the nub of her ankle.

Fenris ran his hand over the sheet before touching her fingers and saying, "I think so. I do not know where else I would go."

"Charming," Anders murmured, glancing to Fenris over the curve of Hawke's thigh as his kisses roamed.

"I'd like to stay with you," Fenris quietly said. "If you'll let me."

"As long as you want," Hawke breathily replied before rolling to climb in his lap. She caressed his chest as Anders snagged the heel of his pants. "No clothing though, I'm afraid."

"How terrible," Fenris deadpanned, his hand up the small of her back to pin her against him and roll her over. He kissed her breast as his thumb caught her smalls and pulled them off. His breath flowed down her stomach as he nestled his forehead against her breastplate, calloused fingers dragging over her thigh and hip. Hawke stroked her fingers into his hair, dragging her head to look at Anders as he stretched out alongside them. He motioned as though in consent.

Easing Fenris onto his back, Hawke kissed him deeply as their bodies pressed together, skin to skin. His warrior's hands plied her backside, clutching her ass as they began to grind together, a slow undulation that quickened their breaths and pulses.

"We've had enough torture," she whispered against his lips, sitting up just enough to slip her hand between them and grip his cock.

Fenris' eyes rolled closed a she stroke him, and he clutched her ass cheek more firmly, urging her hips against his cock. Their tongues tangling together again, Hawke broke away with a breath and sat up to guide him into her. She closed her eyes, gripping his chest as she let her body sink and impaled herself with a heady sigh.

Anders crept forward to press a kiss to Fenris' cheek, and the elf turned to meet his lips as Hawke inhaled deeply and rode into a steady, slow gyration upon him. Groaning into the mage's mouth, Fenris dragged his fingers down Hawke's thighs, clutching them to meet her grind with a slow thrust of his own. Sitting back, Anders stroked over the growing hardness between his thighs, a peculiar half grin on his lips as he leant against the wall.

When Hawke chanced to open her eyes, a smile warmed her lips, "Enjoying the view?"

"Quite a lot, actually," Anders simply said, before crawling on his knees to nestle behind her. He ran his hands around her waist as he nestled his cock plump between her ass cheeks and looked down her shoulder at Fenris. His hands found her breasts as he licked up her neck and said, "The both of you."

Hawke's breath shuddered as she laid her head back and Anders plied her breasts, rolling her nipples to give them a tug. When her hips rolled, Anders' followed, pressing his pinned shaft against the curve of her buttocks. Fenris' hands stroked up her thighs, and took over toying with her breasts as Hawke leant into him.

Groaning deeply as Hawke rolled her hips, Fenris closed his eyes as she found his ear, suckling and teasing the tips. Soon her voice was by his ear, "Do you want this? We'll be together."

"Yes," Fenris breathily replied, writhing into her as she put a hand by his head and ground their hips together.

Anders cast a grease in his hand and smeared it around his cock before stroking his fingers down the puckered button of Hawke's back side. Lying against Fenris, she wrapped an arm around the elf's head and her breath shuddered by his ear as Anders eased a finger in to stretch her.

"You... you enjoy this?" Fenris whispered to her as she squeezed him tighter, breath quickening as Anders plied a second finger in.

"Yes," she scarce gasped. Eyes closed to the rush of her pulse, Hawke smeared her lips down Fenris' cheek, willing her body lax atop him as she felt Anders press the head of his cock where his fingers had been. "Ohhh fuck... Maker, yesss."

Hawke tangled her hand in the coverlet, breathing in sharp little gasps as Anders put a hand on the small of her back, and steadied his hips to press forward and force himself in her tight backside. With a slight rock of his hips, it rubbed their cocks together within her, filled beyond need, and she silenced her moan into Fenris' lips.

The world melted away into the rhythm of Anders' hips, his slow strokes rolling Hawke's body into Fenris, and soon she rose on her hands above him. Anders ran his hands around her hips, gripping tight to pin her between them, while Fenris' hand held her waist, bodies hot with the grind and throb. When he shifted to pinch her nipple, Hawke jerked and sucked a breath through her teeth.

"Yes," she choked, a flush on her skin as she met his eyes. Fenris brushed her hair from her face and pulled her down into his lips, their tongues lashing together before she hovered between them again. "Harder. Please... ahhhgh Anders, please!"  
Breathing more heavily, Anders put a hand against the wall and leaned his weight into her, hips rolling into a succession of jerked thrusts that spiked Hawke's moans. He reached to grip her hair, and bowed to kiss her shoulder, thighs smacking her ass as he sunk into a frenzied pace and panted, "Let me hear you."

Caught between them, Hawke's hand smacked the wall as her senses blurred away into the sudden rush, and she scarce muffled the cry in Fenris' shoulder as Anders buried his cock in her. It was a pulse and ebb that effaced her thoughts and left each fingertip and limb abuzz with sense and delight, unable to keep from undulating and rolling with their hips to milk ever throb of pleasure.

Anders lost his grip of her hair, closing his eyes as he steadied himself and listened to the devolving shudder of her cries, the sound huffed by his thrusts. It was when Fenris groaned and there was the smack of their lips in a frenzied kiss that he trembled and jolted to cum and pump his seed. Leaning down, he ran a hand down her thigh, moaning as she met his thrusts, bobbing her ass to take from him all she could.

Hawke shuddered as she moved, moving them with her to grind into Fenris' loins, limbs becoming easy putty as Anders slowed. Pulling out, Anders linked an arm around Marian's waist and pulled him with her, drawing a dissatisfied groan from Fenris.

"Just wait your turn," Anders panted, biting Hawke's shoulder and kissing her cheek as her face turned. He kissed by her ear too, and panted softly, "Lie down. Let me."

A rag doll in his arms, Hawke laid out alongside them as she panted, a flush and sweat on her skin. Glancing across her, Anders met Fenris gaze as he planted a hand beside his hips and sunk down to suck his damp cock down. The elf's face contorted and he arced to press himself into Anders' mouth. Fenris tangled his hand in the other man's hair, and they ground together, soft suckles meeting the eager thrust to fuck his mouth.

Rolling his head back on the bed, Fenris groan choked in his throat, and he tensed and buried his member deep in Anders' throat. The mage's fingers dragged down his pale skin, and Anders closed his eyes and swallowed as his bobbing pace slowed. Tightening his grip in Anders' hair, Fenris pulled him up and they heatedly kissed, their sweaty bodies writhing together and creaking the bed.

When they paused for breath, Anders touched foreheads with Fenris, and it was a moment before he pulled out of the haze and glanced to Hawke. She lazily grinned as they both looked at her, still lying in a disjointed way where they'd left her. Dragging herself closer, Hawke tugged Anders down against the wall and situated herself between them with a huff of contentment.

"You boys have had all this time together," Hawke drawled, her voice laden with sleep. "I have some catching up to do."

"Since you put it that way," Fenris chuckled, drawing his arms over his head as she snugly fit against his side. He turned his cheek against her forehead and looked at Anders as he rolled his chest against her back. He reached to tease a few fingers through the mage's blond hair.

Anders closed his eyes, lips on Hawke's shoulder as he slide his fingers over her hand and onto Fenris' abdomen. They laid and caressed, slowly finding a comfortable fit before he said, "I don't know what we're going to do now."

Drowsily closing her eyes, Hawke settled into the safety of their arms and murmured, "Antiva. We're going to Antiva."

* * *

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It started out as a simple kink meme prompt reply, and became this. It ended up being longer than I ever thought it would be.
> 
> Right now, I do have ideas kicking around for a sequel (of all things). Let me know if you're interested? It might include a certain sexy assassin (not Hawke, silly) and others, depending on what I work out for plot amidst their ehem, play? I'd also be willing to entertain requests for what people want to see in the next. Thanks for the comments and kudos :) always makes me glad to know people are enjoying my dirty writing hehe! Thanks again!


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